The Soul Cages
by Q Illespont
Summary: The things a soul can buy ...
1. Chapter 1

THE SOUL CAGES  
Copyright 2008 Q Illespont  
All characters trademark their appropriate owners  
Chapter 1

* * *

Darkwing sighed as he leaned back in the side seat of the Thunderquack. 'Another villain vanquished to verify the validity of virtue,' he mused, tipping his hat over his eyes.

Launchpad chuckled from the pilot's seat. 'Great work, DW! We sure made one heck of a team that time! You should'a seen his face when "Darkwing Decoy" came through the wall for him!'

Darkwing smiled. 'The plan was technically for you to use the door.'

'Yeah, I know. It's hard to hit those from 30,000 feet!'

Darkwing chuckled. 'I'm sure you're working on it. Just don't do it if we're in here.'

'Aw,' a brash voice moaned from behind him, 'I wanna practice ramming buildings too!'

Darkwing shook his head. 'You're too young to become a kamikaze, Gosalyn,' he admonished. 'Besides, you weren't even supposed to be here in the first place.'

'What? I wanted a chance to fight evil, too! And you would've been in trouble if I didn't sabotage the missile controls, anyway.' Gosalyn stood behind the seats, arms folded, before continuing. 'You know Steelbeak was more than happy to blow up Siberia, anyway.'

'Fine, fine. Anyway, we just have to stop for a check-in at SHUSH's offices for the debrief.' He groaned at the image of meeting Grizzlikov, who he knew would be on hand to personally insure that each and every form is filled out. He never actually filled them out, preferring to just tell them about his exploits, but it was still a bother. 'Where are we now?'

'Crossin' over the date line, on our way over Alaska,' Launchpad reported. 'Good to be back in our hemisphere.'

Gosalyn leaned forward, looking at the console of the Thunderquack. She tapped a light that had started flashing with a buzzing tone. 'What's this mean?'

Launchpad chuckled. 'Aw, don't worry,' he said. 'That just means we're being picked up by NORAD. I keep forgettin' about that.' He flipped a switch on the panel, and the buzzing stopped. 'Now we just look ordinary.'

'Keen gear,' she said. 'I always wondered how we could fly around the world without all those radar things going off!'

'Yeah,' Launchpad replied, 'otherwise we'd have to keep dodging SAMs and stuff.' An explosion rocked the plane, and Launchpad nodded. 'Like that. Wha--hey!'

Gosalyn felt the Thunderquack start to spin into whatever damage had happenned while Darkwing held onto his seat. 'I thought you'd made sure the jammers were working!' he yelled, holding his hat with his other hand.

'They were!' Launchpad yelled as he wrestled with the controls. 'Hold on tight, guys, this is gonna be a bad one!'

Darkwing and Gosalyn gulped at the pronouncement; Launchpad had built up something of an immunity to crashes, so seeing him worried was frightening. Darkwing reached for Gosalyn to hold onto her as the plane flat-spun on its way to the ground.

And then time came to a dead stop.

Darkwing tried to turn his head, but couldn't. His eyes darted around, and he saw Launchpad straining, yet statuesque. Gosalyn's eyes were wide but he could not feel her grip on his wrists. He tried to speak. 'What's going on?' OK, his jaw worked.

Behind him, he heard a smooth deep voice, and he noticed a faint whiff of brimstone. 'Oh no,' he thought.

'I think we need to have a talk, Mr Mallard,' the man behind him said.

--

'Who are you?' Darkwing tried to yell. It sounded hollow.

'I am a man of wealth and taste,' the new arrival said. 'I'll leave it to you to make the other connections.' He walked around, and Darkwing could now see his new guest. Unlike Launchpad and Gosalyn, he seemed to be an actual being rather than a statue. He stood as a tall tiger, in a neatly tailored dark business suit, the blue tie contrasting with his orange fur. 'I also have many names and forms. This one I think suits our needs at the moment. While I am not Mr Khan, he did have a style I and those I work with ... admired.'

Darkwing grumbled. He remembered learning about him in history class, back in school. The sort that wouldn't break a law ... but would inspire them. 'What do you want?'

The tiger chuckled. 'What do we always want?'

Darkwing thought, then remembered. Someone like this was apparently able to exist outside of time--everything else was frozen. And the familiar scent brought back memories of what he thought was a nightmare. 'If you think I'm trading my soul to get out of this, you're mistaken. Go to hell.'

'I know better than that, dear Drake,' the demon chuckled. 'I have something more precious than just that, though. You see ... currently, if nothing else happens, you will live, and so will Launchpad. And your darling daughter, too.' He smiled. 'Too bad about her, by the way.'

'What about her?'

The demon reached into his suit coat and withdrew a small video player. 'We don't have huge amounts of power available, Mr Mallard, but we do have a slight amount of foresight. And this is what I see in your future.' He tapped the play button, and the screen flicked to life.

On the screen, he could see himself, Launchpad, and Gosalyn, as they were now. After a few moments, the action started. He saw the sky outside spinning, with ominous views of the ground below. The sound was chaotic as the engines whined.

As the spin continued, he saw himself being pulled from his seat. He'd been hasty in buckling in, and he also had Gosalyn on his arms. The combination was threatening to send the both of them to the far wall of the plane. Only by holding a strap between his feet was he able to prevent it.

After a few agonisingly slow moments, the screen shook and the speakers let out a horrible crash; with his experience, Darkwing could tell they had finally hit ground. He then gaped as he saw his arms and legs twitch, with both letting go, not from the amount of force but the shock of impact loosening both grips.

At this point, the video slowed, and he got to see what else was going on. He saw that the force built up in the spin was sending both himself and Gosalyn across the main console. A few levers seemed ready to impale, but he saw the twin arcs clearing them safely. 'So where's the horror part?' he quipped to his guest.

'Right now,' was the reply as the scene focussed on Gosalyn. Darkwing gaped as he saw her flying away from him, tumbling towards the canopy in slow motion; he followed, although on a slightly different trajectory.. He remembered they'd reinforced it, and feared she'd be injured ... then gulped as best he could in the no-time that was going on around him as he saw what was going on behind her.

The canopy had failed. Cracks formed, and one part came inward just right. He saw he was sailing towards a part that had not failed, but as for Gosalyn ...

Darkwing clenched his eyes shut as he then heard what sounded like a horrible crack, followed by a crash. 'I thought you said she lived,' he grumbled.

'Amazing, is it not?' the tiger demon said. 'Such a young one as she, and yes, she did survive. Well, mostly. Open your eyes, Mr Mallard. This is important information for you to know before we discuss any bargains. You need to know what you currently have before you can negotiate for something better. And as a hint ... well, you know who and what I represent. Let us say that I would have to object to the principle of her being entirely killed in this crash.'

Darkwing snarled and opened his eyes. He saw Gosalyn lying in a bed, eyes blankly staring forward. Bandages were around her head. He gulped as he saw what looked like a point coming out and pushing the wrappings on one side of her head.

On one side of the bed stood Darkwing, Morgana, and Launchpad. Darkwing was in his costume still. On the other were a wolf sighing as he closed his notebook, and J Gander Hooter. Hooter let out a sigh and walked over. 'I'm sorry, Darkwing. Our doctors have done what they can for her.'

'No,' he heard his future-self on the screen say. 'Do more!' He couldn't tell if Morgana was holding the future self back, or if he was clutching her like a lifeline.

The wolf spoke up. 'It's one of those freak chances. The shard did too much damage to her. She's ... responsive. She's mostly healthy; it didn't affect her involuntary systems. But she won't be Gosalyn anymore. She can't act. She's on a feeding tube because she doesn't respond if food is put in her mouth.'

Hooter spoke up. 'We had some of our psychic staff come in to try to get in touch with her, Darkwing,' he said sadly. 'All they found was fragments of her mind. They weren't able to make contact. Her body's alive, but the girl you knew ... if God is merciful, she died in the crash and all that's left are echoes that will fade.'

'And if not?' he heard himself say angrily.

'If not ... then she'll spend the rest of her life in that shell, unable to see, to hear, to move, to live.'

The tiger switched the device off. 'I think you now know what I mean.'

Darkwing grumbled. 'My soul for her life, then?'

The demon nodded. 'Indeed. Obviously, we are not able to exert a lot of force on the material world, but with the strength of the souls of the damned, we can make ... changes to events. And your soul could be tapped for enough power to not loose your grip on your daughter.'

'And how does that end? You said you were gonna be honest about things.'

'Indeed. It will cost more than your soul, Mr Mallard.' He flicked the player to show a menu, and selected another scene. This one had him keep his grip on Gosalyn's wrists as they hit. His feet still had let go, but with the fact they were one solid mass, it altered their trajectory slightly.

Gosalyn's mouth flew open as she slammed into the control panel, and he was sure he could see a red spot growing under her thigh. But what he noticed most of all was the same jagged point form in the windscreen, and Gosalyn now serving as a pivot for the two of them.

'That too, huh?' he said. 'Why not make sure my legs hold on?'

The tiger laughed. 'Because I do not want to. This is your choice, Darkwing. And the only offer you will get.'

Darkwing cringed. A devilish dilemma, he though to himself, without his sparkle of wit. Either he could consign Gosalyn to a fate so bad a devil would prefer that for her over just killing her, or he dies and is condemned to a fate equal to Hell.

'If this helps,' the tiger said, letting his voice trail off as he brought the scene with Gosalyn in the hospital bed back up.

Darkwing found himself forced to stare at the reality for her, and that steeled himself for what he had to do for her, one last way he could keep her safe. 'Sold,' he said through his teeth.

'Splendid. And now I will do as you asked. I will see you very soon, Mr Mallard.'

As the tiger disappeared with his infernal contraption, time returned. He cluched tighter, tighter, and tried to will his legs to hold on. If he can do that, he can cheat the vision he saw!

The plane then smashed into the ground, and the shock travelled through the taut belt he held between his feet. He felt his thighs slacken, his arms twitch, but then he felt a surge through his muscles, a wave of heat. He felt his hold on Gosalyn's wrists stay firm, but the surge stopped short; his legs had let go of the belt.

They spun to the console, and Gosalyn howled; he saw it was the radar warning light she had hit in irony. The short indicator still stuck out enough to wound, especially with the forces involved. He tried to whisper, 'Goodbye, Gosalyn,' as he felt fate finish the scene.

Then everything went dark, the last sounds he remembered hearing being a soft feline laugh.

* * *

And thus begins another story. More to come as I ... um, write it.


	2. Chapter 2

THE SOUL CAGES  
Copyright 2009 Q Illespont  
All characters trademark their appropriate owners  
Chapter 2

* * *

Gosalyn tried to hold back the sniffles as she sat on the couch.

She looked at the skirt on her black dress, and the shiny black shoes on her feet. She loathed them. She loathed this outfit, and not just because of how frilly it may have been.

It was the same outfit she wore to her grandfather's funeral. And now she had to wear it to her father's. It just wasn't fair. Most kids generally only get orphaned once. She's now at three and counting!

She felt Launchpad put his big arm around her, and heard him clear his nose in his handkerchief. 'Are you gonna be allright, Gos?' he asked, looking at her.

She nodded morosely. At the funeral, she'd let it all out. She couldn't stop it even if she wanted to, and she sure didn't want to. Her throat still felt raw from the screaming she'd done there. No-one blamed her, of course.

At least they'd buried him as Darkwing Duck, although at this point it was obvious that he was really Drake Mallard, her father. Not even SHUSH could stop that, and there were a few reporters on hand for the funeral of Saint Canard's trademark (well, now the Mallard estate's trademark) crimefighter. The other Justice Ducks had come as well to pay their respects, too, although Darkwing's low popularity did at least keep the scene manageable.

Morgana walked to the pair, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. She'd also chosen a black dress for the day, a somber one rather than some of the other outfits she'd worn on dates with her father. She said nothing, just sat on the other side of Gosalyn, and the three of them just stared ahead.

Honker walked in after a while. 'I had to get changed,' he offerred half-heartedly as he saw those Darkwing was closest to hadn't changed. 'Um ... ' he hesitated, and then tried, 'so what do we do now?'

Launchpad blew his nose again, and wiped his eyes. To Honker's relief, he switched handkerchiefs. 'I dunno. It's been so long since I joined up with DW,' he moaned, then sank forward again. Gosalyn herself sobbed again, a pang of pain through her soul, and she sobbed into Launchpad's shoulder.

Morgana saw the two, and sighed. This wasn't going to be easy, she thought to herself, and turned to Honker. 'I think we need to talk,' she said.

'Maybe I should do something,' he answered, fidgeting. He didn't remember seeing this side of Gosalyn before. Then again, he'd only met her after she and her family had moved in.

'You will. Gosalyn and Launchpad,' Morgana began, and paused. She then continued, 'are going to need some other help, and you're about the only other person I know they know, aside from Gizmoduck or those spies they used to hang out with.'

Honker tried to wave his hands to deny, but Morgana touched his shoulder. 'Trust me, I can find that sort of thing out. But you can help me with something else.'

--

Morgana walked through the musty library, sniffing the air. Dust and neglect were a second home to her, although she had been lately pondering the benefits of a home in the suburbs. Of course, at this point she was in the library to figure out the fate of that home.

She allowed herself another tear of sorrow, and dabbed at it with the sash from her dress. Back to business, and this was a dangerous profession she was going into. And she also had a duckling in tow as a helper.

'Allright, Honker,' she said. 'Know what you're looking for?'

He nodded, and trotted off carefully towards a section promising the state's laws on inheritances. Morgana herself glided to check on the statutes on adoption. While the loss was still fresh in their minds, they also had to worry about Launchpad and Gosalyn, as well as their home. Honker would get information as to Darkwing's estate, although fortunately not everything he owned was mentioned. While the press did discover his identity, they still hadn't found his secret hideout, and for the time being Stegmutt and Neptunia had volunteered to keep an eye on it until they could decide on a plan.

Well, Neptunia was convinced after being reminded of how bad it would be if all of Darkwing's crimefighting gear ended up in the bay.

In either case, while Honker was dealing with property, Morgana was making sure that Gosalyn would at least still have a home. Sure, Darkwing may have put the house in her name, but that wasn't what she needed--worst case, she'd live in the Tower, anyway. And while Launchpad was a great guy, he was more a brother-type figure to her than a father. Maybe an older brother, but still a brother.

She frowned as she remembered that she would've had to do this anyway. She'd been putting this off, but why? Fear? Maybe not knowing? After all, if she did marry Darkwing, maybe she would've been Gosalyn's mother that way without any paperwork. But now, with his death, she had to start getting ready for adopting Gosalyn as her own daughter.

Whispering a spell to grant patience, she opened the tome.

--

Gosalyn scowled at the table in front of her. The gallery behind her had a few members of the press waiting on the results, too, but she wished she could just get this over with.

Darkwing had named Launchpad as the executor of the estate, and had left it split between the two of them, and that was about as fine as it could get; at least she wouldn't be forced to move out. She still didn't like sitting around waiting, though.

She'd initially tried convincing everyone to let Launchpad adopt her; she was sure that he'd be decent, although she was also sure she'd be able to get away with a little more than her dad did. However, Morgana vetoed the idea and insisted it should be her.

She fretted a little, and a part in the back of her mind wondered what it'd be like with a mother--it had been a long time since she'd had anything even close. Her own mother had died a year or two after she'd been born, and ever since she was raised in her grandfather's home/office/lab. Since then, the closest she'd gotten to maternal attention was Binky Muddlefoot (and, a few times, her father when he got too concerned about his parental duties and tried to be both father and mother, but those don't count--and were pretty awkward anyway).

In a way, she did miss the idea. Launchpad was great, but not really an actual mother figure. Then again, she did have to toughen up as a result, and only rarely had to hear about how unladylike it was to bodycheck a wayward forward into the third row, or fake a linebacker out of his shoes, socks, and shoulderpads. She idly wondered how Morgana would try to raise her, and thought about how to keep the 'family legacy', as she thought of it, alive as Quiverwing Quack.

The rap of the gavel brought her back to the real world. She saw the government councilor, some tiger in a suit, walk back from the bench; the judge was ready to render her decision.

'Regarding the matter of custody of Gosalyn Mallard, born Waddlemeyer,' she read as she looked at the paperwork in front of her. 'The court has a petition from Morgana Macawber to adopt you in her home. While the court sympathises with the intent and with the situation, I must find against.'

Morgana and Gosalyn gaped. Launchpad rose to his feet, slamming his hands on the table, and yelled out, 'Objection! That's just wrong, your honour!'

The judge rapped her gavel again as the gallery buzzed. 'Mr McQuack, I understand your opinion, but while Ms Macawber has shown a willingness to be a good mother, and is undoubtedly able to provide materially, there are two items that the court cannot ignore in this matter.

'First of all, there is the issue of Ms Macawber's prior criminal record. Despite recent actions, you do have a past that is full of felonies. Combined with the home life and background of Ms Mallard, we find that the combination would cause excessive friction between parent and child.'

'I have reformed, you know,' Morgana grumbled. 'Or is this because of witchcraft?'

The judge shook her head. 'We didn't factor religious beliefs into the finding. Anyway ... the second reason that we are concerned is that you would end up as a single parent. Ms Mallard's childhood records show she had been in single-parent homes for excessively long, and honestly I am surprised that the late Drake Mallard was able to adopt her. Seeing his documents, I would have been more inclined to grant custody to his Darkwing Duck persona. But ideally we want to place children in a home with two parents.'

'What about me?' Launchpad said. 'I was with DW when he adopted Gos, why can't I move in with Morgana?'

Morgana stared at the pilot. She hadn't thought of it, but that would explain a few things--and help prevent having to explain others.

The judge thought on it. 'Ideally, there should be a marriage, but I'm not allowed to forget the precedent set earlier.' She called a bailiff over, who left the courtroom. 'There has, however, already been much interest generated in adopting Ms Mallard. We expedited this hearing due to the close relationship between yourself and her late father, but I've entered my finding. Gosalyn needs to report back to the Saint Canard Orphanage in one week. At that point, the normal adoption process will begin. I will enter you with the revised application, although I cannot guarantee that circumstances will change. And if a more suitable home is found, we must put her needs before your own wishes.'

'What about my wishes, Judge?' Gosalyn yelled. 'What if I don't wanna leave my home?'

'I'm sorry, Ms Mallard, but that is all we can do. Court adjourned.'


	3. Chapter 3

THE SOUL CAGES  
Copyright 2009 Q Illespont  
All characters trademark their appropriate owners  
Chapter 3

* * *

Launchpad sobbed as he opened the door to Gosalyn's room. He could barely recognise it as hers.

He could for one see the floor. Gone were the dirty clothes, clean clothes, discarded toys, sports equipment, and comic books. Drake kept his room clean, but this wasn't cleaning, it was emptying of its heart and soul.

Gosalyn herself was sitting on the bare bed, fuming. In her hands she held a photograph; it was a picture of Darkwing. 'It's not fair, Launchpad,' she managed. 'I lose Dad and then I lose you and Morgana.'

Launchpad tried a fake smile. 'Maybe our petition can go through. Or maybe we can get Herb and Binky to adopt ya? You'd get to move in next door with Honker. That'd be allright, wouldn't it?'

Gosalyn shook her head. 'It's not the same, and you know it.'

Launchpad dropped the suitcase he had been carrying and dropped to the bed, wailing. 'It wasn't supposed to happen like this!' he yelled into the mattress. 'I thought everything was allright, that you'd stay here in the house!'

Gosalyn stared at the photo again, then tucked it into her jersey. She ran over to where Launchpad dropped the suitcase. 'Well, I've got an idea. I'm not going back to the orphanage!' With that, she ran out the door. By the time Launchpad got up and made it to the door, she was gone.

--

Gosalyn growled to herself. She was drawing way too much attention, especially with the suitcase. A quick stop at the bus station and two dollars invested helped take care of the latter issue, but people were still watching her, and she was certain a reporter had been following her for the last five blocks.

'Dad never had a problem shaking someone like that. How would he have gotten out of this?' she thought to herself, when a shriek rang out behind her.

'Help! He stole my purse!' a woman had yelled, and true to form a purse snatcher in dirty clothes was rushhing down the sidewalk to her. Without thinking, she shifted.

The thief decided to blow through her--the path of least resistance, and all. What he wasn't expecting was her to grab his shirt, plant her sneaker in his gut, yell out 'HIYA!', and send him from dashing forward to smashing into the ground on his back. He got up to find the young girl, swinging the purse. 'Hand it over, kid,' he snarled as he drew a knife.

'No way, crook!' she yelled. The purse turned into a spinning blur, soon followed by the world. By the time he realised what was going on, two police officers were helping him to his feet while a third worked to untangle his legs from the purse strap.

Gosalyn herself was smugly tugging her own jersey. 'Yep, yep yep yep,' she gloated. 'Runs in the family.'

'Thank you!' the lady said as she finally caught up to the scene of the arrest. 'Wait ... aren't you that little girl Darkwing Duck adopted?'

Gosalyn couldn't resist widening her smile. 'That's right. Gosalyn Mallard.'

'It's too bad about your father,' she said. 'I know he was weird, but it's seemed worse since he was gone.'

'Tell me about it,' the third cop said as he came to them. 'I'm Officer Fairbanks,' the malamute said, 'and I'll need to take a statement from both of ya. But it's true, we've had to work a lot harder since that caped looney bought it.' He then looked at Gosalyn and paled at her glare of disapproval. 'Um, sorry, ma'am,' he said as he fidgeted with his book. 'Still, we've been pulling a lot of overtime to make up for Darkwing being gone.'

Gosalyn thought for a few moments, then smiled. She gave her statement of what happenned, making sure to emphasise she learned the hold from Darkwing, and ran off while the police interviewed the victim and the thief. The reporter also stayed on the scene, distracted by having to report the foiled robbery, and she put her plan into action.

--

No-one had paid attention to her the last other hundred or so times she ran up the bridge caternary cables to get to the Tower, and nothing had changed this time. Odd how that was, she thought to herself. Then again, drivers barely paid attention to the road, let alone what was going on high above. No-one had ever noticed that Darkwing was based there. Well, someone once did, but he was specifically searching.

And of course she found out, since he'd brought her there to hide from that guy. And then Launchpad figured, and Honker'd taken a tour or two, and then there were those kids from the fanclub ...

She shook her head. The only ones who really knew the tower was the base were herself, Morgana, Launchpad, and Honker.

And Gizmoduck, who was waiting in the hedaquarters and grabbing her arm. 'Hey!' she yelled, 'what gives?'

'I figured you would come here sooner or later, young Gizmobuddy,' he said. 'I'm here to take you back home.'

'I'm already here!' she yelled, squirming out of his grasp. 'I'm gonna set up here from now on.'

'A crimefighter's secret hideout is no place for a young girl to grow up,' he stated. 'You need a real home.'

'Morgana lost, Gizmoduck. Even with the appeal or whatever they did, I gotta wait in the orphanage again!' she spat out. 'And that's not gonna happen. You just said I need a real home, and here I have my own room, my own bed, and people around to make sure I'm safe. What more do they want?'

'Parents,' Gizmoduck said as he rolled to her.

Gosalyn sniffled, then snarled, wiping away the tears that threatened to fall. 'If God wanted me to have parents, He wouldn't've taken so many of them away from me. So I'll live by myself here.'

'And what about school? The school bus can't ride up the cables.'

'I'll use Dad's computer stuff to learn. I'll be just like he was before he met me. Just gotta clean my costume up.'

Gizmoduck rolled so he was blocking her path. 'Is that what your father would have wanted?' he asked. 'He would have wanted you to grow up to be a proper young lady with a solid job.'

'Yeah? I met one of those ladies on the way here. She'd just been mugged, and I put the guy down!' she yelled triumphantly. 'I can do it, Gizmoduck! The cops are running ragged and crime's up and I can do it for Dad!'

Gizmoduck sighed. 'You're too young, and the police will know you're missing if you don't report like the court ordered. Your father didn't start out as a criminal.'

'I can fool 'em,' Gosalyn said coldly. 'And if they find out, I can get 'em off my trail.'

'And what about Morgana and Launchpad?' Gizmoduck asked. 'If you disappear, they will be suspects one and two. The police and the FBI will be all over them.'

Gosalyn paused as that sank in. She hadn't thought about what would happen if she disappeared. She then looked at the armoured duck and asked, 'Why don't you adopt me, then?'

Gizmoduck gulped and paled as he thought of how that would play out. On the one hand, the hope in those green eyes was almost a solid bearhug on his heart. On the other ... he could imagine how his mother would react to bringing home a girl like Gosalyn. He wasn't sure he could handle her spirit if he had to live with her all day, and that was even if he was in his suit. 'I'd have to reveal my secret identity, and honestly, you wouldn't like my secret identity that much. I'm very dull there.' He wasn't sure of that, but he'd been told folks thought he was dull as Fenton, anyway.

He sighed again as he saw the hope fade from Gosalyn's eyes. 'What am I supposed to do then?' she asked. 'I don't wanna give Dad up that way.'

Gizmoduck patted her shoulder. 'We'd better go back to your place. Launchpad is probably worried sick about you.'

Gosalyn meekly nodded as Gizmoduck lifted her up and flew out of the Tower.

--

Darkwing glared at the tiger demon. If his fingers weren't already white with feathers, they'd be white with anger as he seemed ready to crush the bars himself. 'You enjoy this, don't you?'

The tiger chuckled. 'Of course I do, although in this case I merely enjoy my work. Which is, incidentally, increasing the pain and suffering of the world. And occasionally offering ... cures, shall we say.'

He waved, and the image from the Tower dissolved. 'But don't worry. As per our agreement, she will indeed enjoy a long life. Just as we agreed.'

'Yeah, I know. Say, I hate to mention this, but so far aside from spending eternity in a tiny cage, it doesn't seem that bad. I always heard there were horrible torments in store here. Lake of fire, racks, demons, pitchforks, you know.'

'Of course I know,' the demon answered with a smile. 'Let's say I have my own reasons for not damaging you yet. There are other things to attend to, first.'

Darkwing shrugged. 'Fine.' Inside, he wished they'd start the torture physically--watching his family break up was worse. But he didn't want to give in on that yet. 'Wake me up when you need me.'

The demon chuckled. He could see the tension in him, and of course owning the soul has its benefits. He could tell that Darkwing was hoping to distract him by offering himself as torture bait. 'I think this current arrangement is more suitable to my needs for you and for her,' he said.

Darkwing blinked and turned back to him. 'Wait. What do you mean by that?'

The demon just chuckled and walked away, leaving Darkwing alone.


	4. Chapter 4

THE SOUL CAGES  
Copyright 2009 Q Illespont  
All characters trademark their appropriate owners  
Chapter 4

* * *

Launchpad and Morgana walked to the orphanage door; Launchpad carried a box with Gosalyn's name written across it, while Morgana had a black bat-shaped briefcase. They looked behind to Gosalyn, making sure she and her suitcase were with them, then let themselves in and went to Mrs Cavanaugh's office. Gosalyn felt as if she were on autopilot as they went on; she was all too familiar with being summoned there from earlier. Then she sighed, stopping at the door.

Mrs Cavanaugh herself sighed as she saw an all too familiar face. She'd been expecting the arrival ever since following the whole series of events after Gosalyn was reorphaned, and loathed having to pull that file out of the all-too-thin section on adoptees. Still, duty called. 'Come on in, Gosalyn,' she said.

The girl who walked in seemed drained of energy, completely unlike the Gosalyn she remembered. 'How's she been?' she asked the adults, keeping her attention on the girl. She almost looked defeated.

Morgana just looked at her. 'Guess.'

Mrs Cavanaugh sighed. 'It's never easy when they have to come back.' She felt her heart sink. 'Fortunately, no-one who was with her is still here. At least it'll be a fresh start.'

'How's that a good thing?' Launchpad asked as he set the box on the desk..

'I try to crack down on it, but some kids ostracise the children who end up having to return. They sometimes call them bad luck, or defective.' She sighed. 'It's not always for something like this. More often than not it'd be a home that was just unsuitable, for some reason.' She didn't notice Morgana tense in anger at that statement. 'Gosalyn was a little rough around the edges then. It's probably a good thing others from her second stay aren't here to take advantage of it.' She handed a room key to Launchpad. 'Room 4 is where she'll be for now. Let her pick a spot to sleep in.'

'Wait. Second?' Morgana asked as Launchpad led Gosalyn out.

'Yes. She came here for a while after her parents died. She was very young then, and probably doesn't remember. Her grandfather hadn't been contacted yet; his employer said he was far too unreachable on some experiment he was running. Once they got the chance, of course, they told him to come back and get her.'

Morgana paused. 'I'm sorry,' she managed. She hadn't thought much of Gosalyn's biological family; she'd only met the fiery duckling after she'd first confronted, then dated, her adopted father.

'It's allright,' Mrs Cavanaugh said. 'Personally, I hope you and Mr McQuack succeed in readopting her, but we have to follow the law. But feel free to return to visit her.'

--

While Morgana and Mrs Cavanaugh continued, Launchpad followed Gosalyn into the dorm to set up. The route was still the same, and the room was still the same; rows of beds. She went to the one on the end automatically, and flopped on the bed.

She snorted as she looked up at the ceiling. 'Nothin' changes,' she grumbled.

Launchpad started unpacking Gosalyn's things. 'Sorry this hadda happen. Morgana and I are gonna get you back outta here.'

'Thanks, though I really meant the ceiling. I threw those crayons into the tile when I was here last time.' She pointed up; the stubs were still embeded.

Launchpad managed a weak chuckle. 'Heh, bet you'll be runnin' the place in no time.'

Gosalyn sighed. 'Probably from seniority.'

Launchpad sighed and put a hand on Gosalyn's shoulder. 'We'll get it set right, kiddo. Um, by the way ... '

'What?'

'Mind telling me where the boys' room is?'

Gosalyn sighed. 'Down the hall, third door on the right. They probably cleaned up whatever I carved there.'

'Got it, Launchpad said, and ran off.

Gosalyn waited until he left, then smiled. She didn't really like doing this, but something had to be done, and she wasn't going to stay again.

She'd convinced Launchpad and Morgana to let her help out with cooking their last dinner together, and she remembered what happenned the last time she and Launchpad had tried cooking. She made sure to make exactly the same mistakes her father had lectured her on, and encouraged Launchpad to follow the same route. The atmosphere made it easy for them to not notice she didn't eat that much, but enough to make things believable.

Quickly, she grabbed a notepad and scribbled a note, then tossed it onto her bed. After that, she emptied most of her box out onto the bed in a pile, and set it down, then closed it over herself, curled up, and waited.

When Launchpad returned, he was holding his stomach. 'Wow, maybe we shouldn't'a used five quarts 'a vinegar in the potatoes,' he mutterred, then looked around. 'Gos? Where are ya?'

Gosalyn held back the urge to answer; success depended on not being found out too soon.

Launchpad stepped closer, then bent down to grab the pad. 'Launchpad: Had to go bad too. Sorry about the vinegar. Gos,' he read. 'Huh. Maybe I ought'a wait for her to come back.'

Gosalyn gaped. She'd planned on Launchpad going back and taking the box with him, not wait for her! How could it go wrong?

--

Morgana and Mrs Cavanaugh entered the bedroom. 'Where's Gosalyn?' Mrs Cavanaugh asked.

'She said she was off to the restroom,' he answered. 'I thought I'd wait for her to get back before, well ... '

Morgana sighed. 'I know. It feels like the first time I lost my uncle.'

'What happenned to him?'

'Suicide. He wanted to sunbathe.' She shivered at the concept. 'But anyway, she's not in the girls' room. I was in there a few minutes ago.'

'Maybe we'd better call the police,' Mrs Cavanaugh said.

Finally, Gosalyn had enough. She opened the box, scowling. 'Don't call the cops, I'm here.'

The three adults reared back in shock for a second. Launchpad then cringed. 'I hope ya didn't use the box instead'a the girls' room,' he managed.

Gosalyn smacked her forehead with her palm. 'No, Launchpad,' she said, 'You were supposed to carry the box out after you saw I was gone so I could sneak back home!'

'I was? Why didn't ya tell me?'

Gosalyn tugged her hair in frustration. 'Because you were supposed to leave and take this with you so I could get outta here!'

'Gee,' Launchpad said, 'why didn't you wait till Morgana and me could say goodbye?'

Gosalyn stopped at that. She tried to remember why she didn't add that in her plan. 'Because ... well, I ... '

Morgana just hugged the girl from behind, sparing her a weak excuse. 'We wouldn't leave you without that, Gosalyn,' she said.

Launchpad joined in the embrace. 'We're family, Gos, even if the lousy judge won't admit it. We wouldn't go without wishin' ya well.'

Gosalyn didn't want to admit it, but it did feel good to have the two hugging her. She also felt a prickle on the back of her neck. 'Feels like you just stuck a spider down my shirt,' she said.

'Whoops, that was me,' Morgana said. 'Archie brought a friend home with him last night. Lemme help with that.'

'Don't bother,' Gosalyn said. 'He'll help keep me company.'

--

Darkwing sighed as he watched the scene play out. He hadn't expected Gosalyn to give up on things, but hearing what she thought would happen twisted his heart. No wonder they hadn't put him through the full features of Hell yet.

'Regrets, Darkwing?' his tormentor asked, tracing a bar of the cage that held him. 'Perhaps some post-final request you have in mind?'

'Don't they have some standards in Hell?' he griped. 'Shouldn't you be out, I dunno, schmoozing in Congress?'

'I have agents for that.' He chuckled. 'Perhaps I can arrange a slight parole.'

Darkwing beamed for a while, then frowned. 'Wait a minute. You're not doing this out of the kindness of your heart. What are you getting out of it?'

The tiger demon retreated, mock innocence on his face. 'Me? Oh, you've found me out,' he said, sighing melodramatically. 'While you're in the mortal plane, I was hoping you would do me a slight favour.'

'And what's that?'

'There's another soul that used to be ... here. I was hoping you would assist it back to where it belongs.' He smiled. 'As you're mine, you would be technically on assignment to gather souls and corrupt the gullible, all to bring power and souls to me and spread evil in the world. It's what we do, after all.'

Darkwing scowled and said, 'Who?'

'I beleive the name is Morgana Macawber,' he said. 'She does fit the classic profile. And of course there is an issue of her past. She seems so precariously balanced; I'm quite sure that a slight tip will bring her back here, where she belongs.'

Darkwing paled under his feathers, then smirked. 'Yeah. Right. She's reformed, Beelzedunce. What chance is there of her coming back down here?'

'There's you. And there's also how close she is to realising her true potential as a sorceress. But in any case, it's what's available.'

Darkwing smiled. 'Go ahead and send me back. I could set up a birthday party here for her and she'd refuse.'

The demon chuckled. 'We shall see,' he said, and Darkwing disappeared from his cage.  


* * *

A quick two chapters here. The pieces are going into position, as it were ...


	5. Chapter 5

The Soul Cages  
Copyright 2009 Q Illespont  
All characters trademarked by their appropriate owners.  
Chapter 5

* * *

Honker hurried up the sidewalk, trying to keep up with his brother Tank. Normally, this would not be an issue, since he would walk home with Gosalyn, but after she was moved, and his parents didn't like the idea of him walking alone, he had to stick with his brother.

In fact, Tank often tried to keep his pace up to force Honker to run himself ragged. Today, however, he seemed almost lethargic as he walked along. He still panted as he caught up.

Tank then came to a stop outside the former Mallard, and now McQuack, home. He growled as he stared at the house.

'What's wrong, Tank?' Honker asked.

'I dunno,' he lied, and grabbed a rock. 'It's just dull around here.'

Honker opened his mouth, then caught on. Tank and Gosalyn may not have gotten along better than she did with himself, but it must have given his brother something. A rival, perhaps; decent competition is better than a cakewalk.

Tank sighed, and reared back to throw the rock at an inviting window on the front of the house. Before he could let loose, the ground shook below the boys' feet, disrupting Tank's stance.

'And just what do you think you're doing, Tankard Muddlefoot?' a shadowy voice said from behind them. They turned, and saw the source of the earthquake.

A section of the street had split open, and dark red smoke gushed out of it. Then a shadowy ducklike form rose out of the crater, and approached Tank. 'I don't remember seeing broken windows in the last "Better Homes and Marshes" issue,' it growled.

Tank screamed, dropped the rock he was holding, and ran through his front door. Honker stood petrified in fear, stammering as the apparition approached him. 'Wha ... what ... '

The shape chuckled, and the smoke started to coalesce. Honker stared, and then blinked, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. The smoke was curling into a familiar shadowy shape.

The shape in question then reached up to tug at its now distinct lapels. 'Yep, yep yep yep. Not even two seconds back from the dead and I foil vandalism. Hey, Honker!' Darkwing then ran at the stunned boy. Honker gasped as the shadowy arms wrapped around him. 'It's good to see you!'

Honker tried reaching to Darkwing, and found what felt like a warmer, denser part where Darkwing's form was. 'Mr Darkwing? What happenned to you?'

'I know you probably think I was really turned insubstantial by a science experiment gone horribly wrong,' Darkwing answered, 'but it's spookier than that. See, I made a one-sided "deal" with the afterlife, and ... '

The ground rumbled again, and another chunk of the street burst upward. This one was propelled by a flaming black fist, with what looked like ghosts dripping out of its severed wrist. It opened, and smashed down on Darkwing and Honker. Honker dropped to the ground under the shock of the impact, but again felt just the same thing he did when he reached through Darkwing.

Darkwing himself yelped as he was crushed, and then grabbed when the fingers clenched on him. He tried to dig his feet in, but was slowly dragged back to the pit. 'Honker! Warn Morgana! I was supposed to tempt her back to evil but I lied! Warn her!'

Honker gasped as Darkwing was pulled under, the debris melting before oozing into place and leaving a smooth, unbroken road where he once stood. Panting, he ran to Darkwing's house, letting himself in.

---

Gosalyn gripped the stick in her hands, and tried to concentrate on the game. It wasn't the same as it was, and she knew why.

She mechanically passed the ball to a teammate, and watched the shot go wide. A defenceman got to the ball, and charged halfway towards her own goal when a whistle blew, and the children were told that it was time to call it a day. She sighed and started pulling her skates off.

She lagged back as the other kids trooped inside, and looked outside the nearby fence. She thought back to when she first met Darkwing, and sighed. It seemed like a cute story that the first thing she ever gave her father was a gutpunch, but now she wondered if she should have done things differently. OK, granted, she had just nearly been kidnapped by organised crime, and technically was kidnapped by a costumed guy with no law enforcement backing whatsoever.

She sighed again and leaned against the fence, looking at the street past it. Outside, she saw a wolf walking by, talking on her phone. She ignored the chatter; judging by her outfit, she was probably some lawyer. Maybe she could knock that phone away ...

A rough voice interrupted her thoughts. 'Hey, lady. Looks like you got one 'a those Paw Pilots I've heard about!' The woman stopped, and stared as a large thuggish man stepped out of a nearby car, followed by a tall slender but still arrogant-looking younger woman. Both leered at the startled wolf; the man stood in her path while his partner moved behind. 'I've always wanted one 'a those! Jenny, why ain't I got one 'a them yet?'

The woman gasped, and jammed her phone into her purse as if to hide it. 'Aww, don't worry, Jimmy,' his partner replied. 'I'm sure I know where we can get one. And how sweet, she's even got a cute purse! I've asked you to get me one for weeks, ya know.'

Jimmy pulled out a lead pipe from his belt; the wolf stared incredulously, and was easy for Jenny to snag. 'Hey!' she said, and struggled, but couldn't break the hold.

'Aw, c'mon lady, all ya gotta do is hand over yer stuff and we're fine,' Jimmy said.

'I don't think she wants to,' Jenny answered.

The victim squirmed, and tried to toss her purse away, but Jenny kept hold. 'Just let me go, I'll give it to you, let me go!'

Jimmy shook his head. 'I think we've got some negotiatin' to do.'

Gosalyn growled.

---

Launchpad groaned as he heard the hammering on the door. 'I'm comin', I'm comin',' he groaned as he stuffed his leather helmet on his head. 'Wait a minute, will ya?'

As he opened the door, Honker burst through, bouncing off his chest. The boy babbled, his feet still pushing into the floor to run. 'Whoa, Honkman, you look like you've seen a ghost!' Launchpad said as he lifted him up.

'I did!' Honker yelled. 'Tank and I were coming home, and he was gonna break one of your windows, and Darkwing's ghost came up out of the ground!'

'You sure there, Honk? I'm sure there's a few other decoys he might'a left around here.'

'It was him! He gloated and everything! And then a big evil hand came out and dragged him back down while he yelled to warn Morgana!' Honker panted.

'Save her from what?' Launchpad asked. 'Crime's up but she's still able to scare off burglars.'

'He said he was supposed to tempt her back to crime but then he stopped Tank from breaking your window so something dragged him back under the street!'

'Hold on, Honk. Catch your breath.' Launchpad thought for a few moments as Honker tried to recover.

'I didn't think he'd really end up down there, Mr Launchpad, sir,' he said as he caught his breath. 'How could that happen?'

'I dunno, I'm not really inta spooks. Then again, if it was DW's ghost, then we'd better do it. And she's good with seances and stuff. Hang on, Honker, we're goin' to save her!'

---

As Jimmy approached his victim, Jenny looked behind him. 'Hey, Jimmy, we got a witness!'

Jimmy turned, and saw Gosalyn drop down from the top of the fence, her skates still hanging from her shoulder. 'Eh, it's just some kid. Maybe we can give her a few bucks for a doll. I'm sure our new friend wouldn't mind!'

'Call the police, please!' the wolf yelled as she tried again to get out of Jenny's grasp.

Gosalyn got her feet under her, and stared at Jimmy. 'Only chance, buster. Let her go.'

Jimmy blinked in surprise, and then laughed. 'Look at her, she thinks she's some sort'a crimefighter or somethin'!'

Jenny giggled and joined the mockery. 'Maybe she's the toddler that naps in the night!'

Gosalyn replied with a growl, and unslung her skates. Holding the toe of one, she swung the other at his wrist, snagging the pipe in the combined laces. She tugged it out of his surprised grasp, and grabbed it herself. 'Well?' she growled, mentally frustrated at not coming up with a wittier line. She'd have to take some time to prepare some; her father was always quicker on banter, anyway.

Jimmy sneered. 'Oh dear,' he said in mock fear, 'I have been dis arm-ed. What ever shall I do?'

'Rearm yaself, of course!' Jenny said. The wolf tugged again, and Jenny smirked. 'I'll help, just lemme take care 'a this.' She lashed her head forward, and the wolf dropped forward, knocked out from the headbutt.

'Why, 'a course!' Jimmy said, and reached behind himself, withdrawing a knife. 'Ya know, kid, maybe you ought'a give me my stuff back. And them skates. And whatever else ya got on hand like cash and stuff.'

Gosalyn shivered as she saw the knife, then felt her fingers tighten on the pipe. 'How about this?' she said, and in a grey blur the pipe swung up into his wrist, knocking the knife away. As Jimmy grabbed his wrist yelping in pain, she let the swing's momentum seemingly carry her up off the ground, only to bring the pipe down on his head. Jimmy sprawled on the sidewalk, out cold.

Gosalyn panted as she landed from the swift strikes, the pipe twitching as she clutched it. She felt the rush that surged through her as she struck, ready and waiting again as she stared down the remaining mugger. Jenny herself just stared in shock.

She soon recovered, and reached into the back of her jeans, pulling out a small pistol. 'You had fun playing hero, kid,' she said, 'but playtime's over. You know what this is? It's a gun, so drop the pipe an' get outta here!'

Gosalyn paled under her feathers and gulped. Jimmy was one thing, but she was facing a gun with just a club. She crouched slowly as Jenny smirked, each watching each other's weapon.

Gosalyn then shot forward. Jenny flinched, and fired; Gosalyn felt a slight tug on her jersey, and figured it was a close one. She must've moved fast enough to avoid the shot. The pipe swung again, and knocked the mugger's legs out from under her. Jenny fell on the pavement face-first, and groaned; the gun bounced away, towards the unconscious wolf.

Gosalyn heard a siren start up; someone else must've seen what was going on, or heard the shot, and the police were undoubtedly coming. She had to get away. Throwing the pipe back at Jimmy's head, she ran off.

As she fled, she saw a familiar sight at an intersection: a minivan, extensive damage in the rear. It was her father's old minivan! She broke straight for it, staying low. The damage to the rear both verified better than a licence plate that it was driven by Launchpad, and allowed her to sneak inside without alerting the drivers. Panting, she curled up and waited for them to get wherever they were going. Worst case, she thought, was that he'd be on his way to the orphanage, and at least she wouldn't be seen for a while as the muggers get arrested.

* * *

Sorry this one took so long. I actually had chapters 5 and 6 ready, and was nicely through 7 when I figured I should upload. Just as I was getting the connection..that computer died. And guess where my data went?

So, new computer in hand, here's the reconstructed version of chapter 5. This fic isn't dead yet! Tho Darkwing's dead. Very dead.


	6. Chapter 6

The Soul Cages  
Copyright 2009 Q Illespont  
All characters trademarked by their appropriate owners.  
Chapter 6

* * *

Launchpad pulled up into the driveway, screeching to a halt before smashing into the garage door. 'We're here, Honk,' he reported.

Honker shivered. 'I've never liked coming here.'

'How come?' Launchpad asked.

'It's creepy,' he answered. 'It looks like a horror movie set.'

'I know,' Launchpad said, and sighed. 'Gos loved coming here with her dad. Wonder what she's doing right now?'

Honker tugged at his seat belt, then heard something behind him. He tensed, stammering, and while staring as innocently as he could straight forward, he reached behind the seat. His fingers grazed what felt like a lump. A warm lump that felt like a beak. 'M-m-m-mister Launchpad, sir,' he managed.

'Yeah?'

'Did y-y-you pack anything f-f-for the ride here? Like a skull?'

'Hmm. Nope, nothin'. Morgana has her own anyway,' he replied. 'Why?'

'Because I think there's one behind me,' Honker whispered.

Gosalyn finally spoke up. 'Let go of my beak!' She swatted his hand away.

Honker screamed and surged, trying to make a break for it. He only stopped when the seat belt did, clotheslining him to the ground outside.

Launchpad jumped as well, then looked. 'Hey, Gos! How long ya been back there?'

'Doesn't matter. Great to be here at Morgana's, though!' she said, and pushed Honker's seat belt release, then went out to help him up. 'Honker, relax! It's just me!'

Honker yelped as he was grabbed again, but finally noted the familiar voice. He turned, and finally stopped trying to flee. 'Don't do that, Gosalyn!' He then paused as he saw her. 'How'd you get here, anyway?'

Gosalyn chuckled. 'I hitched a ride when you guys went through town coming here.'

'What will the orphanage say?' Honker asked.

'They're busy handling a couple 'a former muggers and speculating about the brave crimefighter who brought 'em down and saved a helpless innocent bystander,' Gosalyn said as she tugged the front of her jersey. 'Why're you here, anyway?'

'I saw your dad earlier! He said Morgana had to be warned about something but he didn't say what.'

'He did? Why didn't he mention me?'

'I think he figured you were safe,' Honker guessed as Launchpad caught up.

'From what Honkman's said, might be one 'a Morgana's old friends,' Launchpad said. 'Doubt you're a big target on Old Scratch's shopping list.'

'Who?' Gosalyn and Honker asked.

'Um, you know. Sam Blazes.'

The children shook their heads.

'H. E. Hockeysticks? Him? Evil horned one?'

The two then lit up in recognition. 'You mean Satan?' Honker asked.

'Shh!' Launchpad said, and hurried them to the door. He pressed the doorbell; three echoing, booming knocks sounded from within.

The door opened and revealed Morgana. She yawned and tried to get her hair out of her face; much to the surprise of Launchpad and Gosalyn, she was wearing a faded blue nightgown. 'Yeah?' she asked.

She finally opened her eyes fully, and looked over the three visitors, all stunned. She then looked at her attire. 'Whoops! Um, I'll be right back ... '

---

Honker shivered again. The outside was one thing, and he remembered hearing about other issues with the occult that Darkwing had to handle, but now he was participating.

He held onto Gosalyn's hand on one side, and Morgana's on the other. Across from him was Launchpad, visible despite the crystal ball in the centre of the table. He heard the chatter of bats, only briefly and recently introduced as Eek and Squeak, and shivered. Bats were one thing in a textbook, but another when they were carrying around miniature candelabra dribbling with wax.

He looked to Gosalyn again, envying her composure. She was always more interested in the occult, or anything else odd. He doubted she'd make a good witch in the long run, since what little he'd seen generally involved in-depth study, but at least she wasn't spooked by the whole room.

'Spirits beyond,' Morgana began as she held her hands up, raising the ones she held. 'I seek thy guidance and humbly request audience with the auditors of the hereafter!'

As he waited, he winced at the increased crush on his hand; he saw Launchpad suppress something similar. Perhaps Gosalyn wasn't as calm as he'd thought.

A voice echoed through the room as the candlelight flickered. 'I am the tracker of the beyond. With whom do you seek audience?' Honker whimpered at the hollow sound.

'Bring forth the spirit of Drake Mallard,' Morgana said. 'We seek his counsel.'

'What, him? You gotta be kidding me.'

Morgana growled. 'No, I'm not. Bring his spirit to us.'

'Very well. I shall summon the fallen hero, Darkwing Duck.' The room felt emptier, and Honker risked a look around the room.

As he did, a familiar hiss echoed, as if a smoke grenade was releasing its payload. Smoke arose out of nowhere, and again it was a shadowy red instead of dark purple. The smell of brimstone lingered as a voice called out.

'I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am the regret you carry to your grave! I am Darkwing Duck!'

Hovering over the table as the smoke cleared was a translucent image of Darkwing himself, his cape fluttering behind him. He looked over the four around the table, and smiled as he saw Gosalyn. 'Hey there, slugger!'

'DAD!' Gosalyn yelled, and sprang forward to grab for him. Before he could reply, she soared over the table, through him, and crashed into a startled Morgana on the other side, landing in a heap.

Darkwing sighed. 'I'm a ghost, Gos.' He then turned to face her, and gasped as he saw Morgana was there. 'Morg! Quick, unsummon me, send me back!'

Morgana groaned as Gosalyn helped her up. 'What's going on, Dark?' she asked. 'Honker said you were worried about me.'

'I am! Send me back before--'

Darkwing's warning was choked off as an ugly red steel collar appeared around his throat. He struggled as link by link, a chain formed from it trailing backwards. After about two metres, instead of a link a clawed hand appeared holding it. Flames poured back from the wrist, forming a shape.

The shape resolved itself into a red tiger with glowing black stripes. 'I believe he was asking you to return him to his owner before I found him first,' he purred.

'Who are you?' Launchpad asked.

'I am the current owner of the soul of Darkwing Duck. You need not worry about the nature of the arrangements.' He smiled as he looked at where Gosalyn and Morgana stood. 'Of course, should the opportunity present itself, other ... transactions, shall we say, may be entered into.'

Launchpad gulped. 'You mean you're .. I mean, you're really ... '

'Let's just say my area code is "666".'

Darkwing struggled to speak, but could barely force air into his throat. He fumed; he was dead, he shouldn't be choked like this! Must be some sort of metaphor, he thought ruefully.

Gosalyn growled as she got to her feet. 'Let him go!'

'Of course not, little girl,' he replied, patting her on the head. Gosalyn fumed and swatted at the wrist; her hands swished through as if it were only smoke. 'His soul is consigned to my care and stewardship. I plan on using him to help me in my efforts.'

Morgana glared at him. 'You're trying to get me back to evil, aren't you?'

The demon chuckled. 'Oh dear. You've found that out, haven't you?'

'Listen, sulfur-cheeks,' she growled, 'I've renounced evil. I'm not a criminal anymore, and I won't ever be again!'

Another chuckle from the demon. He then answered, 'You'll fall soon enough. You mortals are so predictable.'

Launchpad then got up. 'Hey! Give me my friend's soul back!'

'I don't "give", Mr McQuack. Nothing comes free, as Darkwing here has found out. Although he was quite insistent that he have the merchandise.'

Honker then remembered some of the movies he saw with Gosalyn. He wasn't a big fan of them, but it was better than nothing. He ran over to Launchpad and whispered in his ear. Launchpad then cocked his helmet, nodded, and said, 'Fine. I'll bet my soul to get his back! If I win, you get mine and if I lose, I get his!'

Honker groaned as the demon laughed. 'Oh, how I wish I could take you up on that deal! Sadly, I doubt anyone here qualifies. You see, we have had to issue restrictions on who has the proper standing to make that wager.'

'What restrictions?' Honker asked.

'Only those of his blood or of his bond qualify. We find that more enjoyable.'

Morgana fumed. 'That's not right! Whatever happenned to the old bargains?'

'They were updated. Of the blood or the bond, or no deal. And oh dear, he never married ... no mate laid his egg ... and he never even proposed to you, Morgana. Oh well.'

Morgana gasped at the last revalation, and stared at Darkwing. He paused in his struggles, and looked pleadingly at her. Then the demon snapped his fingers, and sank down through the table.

Darkwing shook his hands as Morgana came over, fear in his eyes. She reached out to him, extending her power into her arms; she could touch Darkwing's ghost this way, and indeed felt a tenous rustle from his ghost's jacket. Before she could grab a good hold, he managed to yell out 'No!' and swat her wrists away. The chain finally pulled taut, and with a strangled squawk he was yanked below, leaving the others staring at the spot where he had been.

---

'He's gone again,' Gosalyn said as she stared at her plate, poking at the food. They'd ordered pizza; Morgana was in no mood to cook, as it reminded her of the times she would do it for Darkwing.

'He wouldn't let me save him,' Morgana said as she looked down, hands in her lap. 'Why?'

'Easy,' Launchpad said around a mouthful of pizza. 'He knew that he was gonna get dragged back down an' he didn't want you to come with him. Heroic sacrifice to keep ya safe.'

Morgana managed a slight smile, then shook her head. 'No. I meant why the demon didn't let us bargain for Darkwing's soul.'

'The devil's supposed to let you bet your soul to get a loved one back, isn't he?' Gosalyn said. 'I always see that in the movies Dad likes.' She sighed; her favourites were where you could wade through, slaughtering demons and devils.

Morgana answered, 'I don't know. Usually they love setting up a rigged test. Give us hope, then cut it down and take the soul away.'

'Wait, don't the good guys usually win those? I'm certain that's what I saw that one episode,' Launchpad answered. 'Pelican had signed himself to Ol' Scratch to get off the island ... '

Honker answered this time. 'I think we hear about the successes in legends because they're rarer. Like airplane crashes.'

'What's rare about airplane crashes?' Launchpad asked confusedly.

'I mean you hear about one or two people who succeed. You don't hear about everyone else who fails. Otherwise, why would they bother? It's like the lottery.'

'Oh.'

Gosalyn growled, then stood. 'I'm going for it anyway.'

Morgana sighed. 'He said we don't qualify. You have to be either married to him or a blood relative.'

'I'm his daughter. I'm getting his soul back.'

'I know, sweetie,' Morgana said, 'but it doesn't really count.'

Honker and Launchpad stopped stone still. Gosalyn's green eyes seemed ringed with fire as she growled, 'How does it not count?'

Morgana backed slightly from the angry girl. 'They put a big store in blood decendent things. I don't think they'll consider you being adopted real enough.'

Launchpad and Honker looked at each other, then to Gosalyn. They'd known her longer than Morgana; while she'd learned some, they'd lived either with or near her to know what was going to happen next.

'I'll warm up the Thunderquack,' Launchpad said.

* * *

I do wish I could write and edit faster than this..


	7. Chapter 7

The Soul Cages  
Copyright 2009 Q Illespont  
All characters trademarked by their appropriate owners.  
Chapter 7

* * *

Morgana looked up from the tome on her animate podium. 'Where exactly were you when the Thunderquack went down?'

Gosalyn and Honker spread out a map of the North Pacific. Launchpad leafed through a few pages of reports. 'Got the notes from the FAA here. Here's where we went down.'

'Just over the Seward Peninsula?'

'Yeah. We were comin' in for a base in the interior, but I wanted to see Mount McKinley first.'

'Up close and personal,' Morgana said. Gosalyn and Honker snickered, and Launchpad managed a smile as he pointed out the crash site on the map. She looked it over, then back to her book, and frowned. 'Doesn't look good.'

'Why?' Gosalyn asked.

'There's a lot of people in the world, and a lot of demons. That means many demons can specialise in certain areas or regions. The more powerful ones get the better territory, of course. Saint Canard's a hot one, for example--in fact, Duckburg's covered by our resident.'

'Wow. I never thought it'd be so bureaucratic,' Launchpad said.

'Simple organisation, Mr Launchpad,' Honker replied. 'Setting jurisdictional areas of responsibility sets an organisation up so you have a clear sign of who is responsible for what.'

Morgana leafed through her tome, then tapped a line. 'Here we go. Hm. I didn't expect that.'

'What is it?' Gosalyn asked as she ran to look.

'The seas are controlled by one guy. Back in time, there weren't a lot of ocean-going traffic, so the entire oceans of the world were one territory, and they even had to throw in a little land, too. Although, to make sure the deal was more palatable, the demon who took that territory made sure that coastal cities like us were excluded from the thing.'

'Why would they do that?' Launchpad asked. 'Aren't the seas always full of legends and stuff?'

'Yep,' Morgana replied. 'And they're all aspects of this one entity. He figured taking the seas as his own would pay off in the long run, and it did. He foresaw how people would start using boats, ships, and even planes--those go over the water a lot too. And he's gotten the power to hold his territory too.'

'What's his name?' Honker asked.

'He calls himself the King of the Sea. There's many legends here, but some of them contradict each other. Still, there is a tradition of meeting him in his domain and challenging him for the soul of a loved one.'

'What's the challenge usually involve?' Gosalyn asked, crowding Morgana away to read herself. 'Hey, it says if I can drink more than he does, I win. Drink what?'

Morgana shifted behind her to read. 'I wouldn't advise that. It's one option they've allowed, but you're not going to do well in it.'

'Hey, I've been able to drink a two-litre of Coo-Coo Cola in five minutes!'

'It's not that,' Morgana said, and quickly checked other pages. 'There's other legends about facing him down in person, of wagering something, but there's always one common thread. The challenger has to go in alone. And it must be family.'

Gosalyn looked at the text, and saw the other tales. 'Lots of folks got away with it. This should be easy,' she answered, rubbing her hands together. 'All this stuff looks simple. Trick 'em into a contest, and win.'

'I don't think so, Gosalyn,' Honker answered.

'Why? There's dozens of heroes in here that made it!'

'And how many people do you think try, Gosalyn?' Honker pressed. 'There's been millions of people who have died. They all had loved ones. These are just the ones who made it. It's like why airplane crashes make the news: they're much less common.'

'What's so uncommon about airplane crashes?' Launchpad asked.

Gosalyn sighed. 'I can't leave him there, Honker.' She looked to the others, then back to the tome before her, and her face set. 'Get me there.'

---

Darkwing fretted as he saw his ... well, his family preparing for the sea voyage. The King chuckled next to him. 'And now they come to me. How considerate of them!'

'You're still not gonna get Morgana's soul,' Darkwing growled. Inwardly, he started trying to analyse the situation. Of the three, she was the most likely to succeed in any occult confrontation, and a demon calling himself the King of the Sea definitely counted as occult.

Granted, it was possible that Gosalyn would force her way in the lead. It looked already like the others were following her lead; even Morgana was more suggesting to her than directing her. The possibility of Gosalyn being drawn here ... that galled him.

Still, demons wouldn't go without a fight, and he knew Honker's analysis was right. He was fine facing those sorts of odds himself, but when it came to Morgana, that was right out.

Gosalyn ... he smiled. 'Hey, Chicken of the Sea!' he yelled out. 'You're planning on some fun with that ship, aren't you?'

'The thought had crossed my mind of improvising a small sacrifice,' the demon purred.

'Aww. Too bad ... since if they don't make it here, then you can't get any of their souls.' Risky proposition, but it might help.

'You just don't want me to have any fun, do you?' the King said, smiling. 'If you insist. They will meet nothing but smooth oceans. Congratulations, you've foiled my plan.'

'Which was?'

The King chuckled. 'To let them come here easily so I can have their souls. Who said I was going to sink their ship?'

Darkwing sagged in his cage.

---

Gosalyn stared forward from the bow of the ship. The water was eerily calm here; she had been expecting raging seas, pounding waves, and hurricane-force winds. Instead, it was almost becalming; the fact the craft was powered overrode the hazard, of course. The sun shone, but coldly; the realm wasn't in the tropics, despite the prevailing winds.

'How long until we reach land?' she yelled back to the cabin.

Inside, Morgana mumbled mystical melodies as Honker quickly calculated and computed the courses. 'About two hours at this speed!' he called back.

Gosalyn sighed as she paced across the fore of the ship, feeling it rock under her weight. 'This is annoying,' she said, and leaned against the railing.

They soon saw a low island on the horizon. The beach was grey, without even rotting wood of shipwrecks to mar the shore. They anchored offshore, and used a launch to reach it.

The island itself was almost entirely circular, and a kilometre in size. 'Good navigatin', guys,' Launchpad said as he rowed them to the shore. Once there, they saw the only feature: a low rotting fence, and a gate with a sign overhead. The sign was faded, and as much as Morgana could search, she could not find what the symbols did stand for.

'Doesn't look like a zombie playground,' Gosalyn said.

Honker shrugged as he adjusted his glasses. 'I don't know. Once magic gets thrown in, it just gets weird.'

'There's perfectly sensible explanations, Honker,' Morgana said, unable to tweak the young scientist. 'When we get back, I can teach you a few things.'

The mood darkened as she mentioned the return. Gosalyn stared at the gate for a long while. 'I'll be back,' she said, approaching it.

'No, Gosalyn,' Morgana said, putting her hand on the girl's shoulder. 'I'm still our best bet for this. I've faced these before. I know what can happen.'

Before Gosalyn could reply, Morgana reached for the gate's handle. It flashed red, and sent her flying back into the shallow waters off the shore.

'It's that "by blood or by bond" thing the demon said,' Honker answered as Launchpad helped her up. 'None of us really count.'

Gosalyn growled. 'I don't care. I count!' She grabbed for the handle of the gate, tensing for the shock.

Nothing happenned.

She looked at the gate, and opened it. Inside looked much the same. 'Well, here goes,' she said, and disappeared.

Honker, Launchpad, and Morgana could only wait on the shore.

* * *

I really need to write faster. And I know it's short..at least I was able to get two chapters up, anyway.


	8. Chapter 8

The Soul Cages  
Copyright 2009 Q Illespont  
All characters trademarked by their appropriate owners.  
Chapter 8

* * *

Inside, the view was much different. Gosalyn stood stunned for a few moments as she tried to rationalise it in her mind.

Even after taking a few steps, the entry seemed to be far behind her, distant on the horizon. The fence was also a mere suggestion in the distance, although the feeling of being penned in never left her. Inside, despite the calm air at sea, a cold breeze flowed from behind as if propelling her further inside the yard.

The sand shifted, a slight crunch with each step as she kept walking. When she looked behind, the prints she'd left were slowly filled back in, erasing all trace of her passage. No matter. Somewhere in this desolation must be the King's court, or office, or whatever demons use for their headquarters. She shivered as the wind whipped at her jersey, wishing she'd chosen something warmer now. Too late.

After what felt like hours, she finally saw a solitary shack, with a decrepit man outside. He was emptying a bag of what looked like sand, just like what she was walking over. 'Hey, you!' she yelled.

The man--apparently a moth-eaten goose--turned to her. 'Well well,' he said. 'A live one. I suppose you have a loved one in my lord's tender care, eh?'

She growled. 'Not for long. I'm getting him out. What's it to you?'

He chuckled and answered, 'Nothing, really. However ... it does keep me busy.' To point it out, he poured some of his sand over her head.

'Hey!' Gosalyn yelled. 'What'd you do that for?'

'Give you reason to reconsider. After all, if you fail ... well, you can see.'

'See what? Some weirdo with a bag?'

He laughed. 'And what's in the bag, sweetheart?' he asked.

'Sand, duh!'

'Look closer, child.'

Gosalyn growled and knocked some of the dust out of her hair, and stared into her palm. 'It's just sand.'

'I'm sorry. I keep forgetting how limited mortal eyes are. Let's just say that we are currently in the Royal Waste Disposal.'

Gosalyn's face twisted in disgust. 'You poured garbage on me?' she asked.

'No. We're demons, after all. What do you think we have to dispose of?' He wiggled his fingers over the pile in Gosalyn's hand, and to her horror it formed a face distorted by some horrible agony. 'These are souls we have tired of. We've extracted all we can from them, so each one is locked into its own weight in sand, and ... distributed.'

Gosalyn shudderred, and shook off the sand. 'Creepy.' She took a few moments to compose herself, then turned back to the man. 'I'm here to make sure this doesn't happen to my dad. Where is he?'

'You still want to do this, child? You seem to have a strong soul. That would mean tens of millennia here, and then ... well, dust in the wind. Which I have heard is even worse.'

'I do,' she said.

The old man cackled in delight. 'Well, well. Just step into my office. I won't be long. Neither will you, I bet.' He opened the door, and she stepped within.

Inside the shed was another island, or at least it appeard as one. There was the feeling of another fence circling the area, anyway. Overhead, what had been a bright sunny day when she stepped off the ship and a blank grey sky within the first gate had turned into a dark sky with a pale full moon casting a cold light over everything. And there was more than just herself and sand here.

Surrounding her on all sides were cages. Rattling cages, with tormented spirits chanting, groaning, begging for help.

Gosalyn stood paralysed as the voices chilled her with their cries for mercy, for release, or for annihilation, for not even Death could extend its mercy to them.

---

'Welcome to my realm,' a voice said behind Gosalyn. She slowly turned, and looked up at its owner.

This time, rather than his other guises, he stood as what could only be called a twisted abomination of a tiger. He shambled towards her on a maimed leg, and he was shrouded in a cloak that looked writhing, barely restrained. It was hard to tell if it was held back from fleeing or from engulfing her. 'I believe you want something of mine, my darling Gosalyn Mallard.'

'Yeah, I do!' she yelled, balling her fists. 'I'm here for my dad's soul and you can't stop me!'

'I'm quite sure I can, actually. I own it, you see, and I certainly will not merely give it away for nothing. Although for the right people, I am not adverse to some wagering.'

'What do you mean, right people?'

'I did say only those of his blood or of his bond may apply,' the King answered, patting Gosalyn dismissively.

She swatted at his wrist. 'I'm his daughter. That's good enough for me!'

The King thought for a few moments. Gosalyn growled as she waited. Just as she decided to punch him in the knee, he quickly snapped his head down to her level. 'I think I can make an exception in your case, little girl,' he said, chuckling. 'After all, such a spirited child like yourself would be a wonderful collection to the souls I already have.'

Gosalyn jumped back as he drew down to her, but planted her feet and got up nose to nose with him after the scare wore off. 'Name your game.'

He chuckled. 'Fortunately, I'll choose one that gives you a fighting chance, literally.'

He snapped his fingers, and the two plunged through the sands, the ground, and into what seemed to be a volcanic cavern. Sulphur tickled Gosalyn's nose as she landed with a thud on her rear, and she stood staring at what was now a distant ceiling, only occasionally tickled with flickering red.

What was nearer was a ridge; she was apparently in a pit of some sort. Around the edge she could see various sorts of seating--bleachers, boxes, and in what was apparently the seat of honour was a regal box. In it she could see the King standing.

As she watched, turning, she saw demons and devils and monsters filling up the seats. These were at times oddly familiar from her earlier tangles with the occult, and at times not. All of them, however, had a predatory gleam in their eyes as they stared down into the pit. She gulped, then turned towards the King. 'Allright, what's the game?' she asked him.

The King chuckled and answered, 'A simple test of your will, my dear girl. In the form of gladiatorial combat. But first the stakes. Please offer yours first.'

Gosalyn looked around. OK, gladiatorial combat. She wasn't exactly black-belt calibre, but if it meant release for her father ...

'My soul. What's yours?' she yelled defiantly.

'Your prize, should you win, will be the release of the soul of Darkwing Duck, botn Drake Mallard.' With that pronouncement, a pillar of dark flame rose next to him; it soon gathered into the form of a lobster cage, and within it ...

'Dad!' Gosalyn yelled, and ran towards the cliff wall. Before she could get far, a devil stepped in her way, sending her careening off after the collision. 'Hey!' she growled.

The devil smiled, and donned a white and black striped shirt. In a short whiny voice, he said, 'I'm here to go over the rules. You don't want to break the rules, do you?'

'What if I do?'

'Simple. You lose, your soul is ours, and so on in perpetuity.'

She smiled awkwardly. 'Um, allright. So what are the rules?'

'Simple,' he announced. As he continued, his voice echoed across the arena, boosted by some infernal PA system. 'You, Gosalyn Mallard, born Gosalyn Waddlemeyer, must test your willpower for the next twenty-four hours. Should you succeed and your will masters the test, your father's soul will be released, and you will be free to go. Should you fail to withstand for the whole time, you will become the property of the King of the Sea, and you renounce forever the right for either your soul, or that of your father, to be freed. One-way trip, kiddo.'

Gosalyn growled, then looked up as she heard a rattling. She saw her father shaking his cage, and swinging his arms. 'No!' he yelled, trying to wave her off. 'Get back to the world!'

As she watched, she saw him seize up as if an invisible hand had throttled him. His arms then burst into flame, and he finally let out a howl of agony as his feathers charred under the fires. 'Oops,' the King said. 'I seem to be playing with my toy a little early.'

That settled it in Gosalyn's mind. 'I accept. What's the test?'

The devil referee blew a whistle, and doors opened around her. Scoreboards were lowered into the pit as well, each one showing her face above a 0, and a generic devil skull in a pentagram over the number 1,000. 'Withstanding the assault of one thousand of our worst demons, devils, and really rotten spirits. Have fun.'

Howls echoed up from the tunnels. Gosalyn yelled out, 'Wait! Don't I get anything to defend myself with?'

The King chuckled. 'If you want weapons, you will soon find them. You may need to negotiate with their current owners, though.' He settled back in his chair.

Darkwing whimpered as he put out his arms, then clutched his cage, only able to stare as his daughter spun around, trying to face the first wave of a rush from Hell. 'No, Gosalyn,' he whimpered.

* * *

And here comes the fight scene.


	9. Chapter 9

The Soul Cages  
Copyright 2010 Q Illespont  
All characters trademarked by their appropriate owners.  
Chapter 9

* * *

Five, ten minutes passed as the hordes howled in homicidal heat. Echoes of their chants reached Gosalyn's ears, each one letting her know what they would love to do to her once they got a hold of her. She paled under her feathers, wondering what she'd gotten herself into.

She looked up over the rim of the fighting pit she was in. A clock appeared under the box holding the King and her father, showing 24 hours. The King himself was standing, arms up. Her father was still crammed into his cage, staring in abject fear.

She looked into his eyes, and growled. No, she thought. She had to get him out. She balled her fists up, and waited.

'Now,' the King said, and brought his arm down with a flourish. The referee blew his whistle, and the seconds started rolling off the clock.

A scream from behind her brought out a reflexive spinning backfist. She'd just learned the manoeuvre, before the crash, and her knuckles smashed nicely into the ribs of what looked like a werewolf. As he bent over from the blow, she laced her fingers, jumped up, and smashed him with a double-fisted blow on the head, dropping him in the dirt.

Behind the werewolf, she could see a pair of demons, both carrying what looked like large thighbones. They swung madly, badly bruising the beaten body before her as they charged. She backed away, then ducked down as they both tried to smash her into the ground. 'Ha! You missed!' she yelled as the clubs bounced off the wall of the pit.

The two demons snarled and started circling. Gosalyn tried to keep her eyes on both, but it was obvious even to her that they were trying to surround her. She stepped back, thinking about how to get them down. If she charged one, the other had a clear shot. So ...

She waited until they were flanking her. Each one then yelled, brandishing the bone, and came at her. She stood her ground, up until the last minute. As the clubs swung up from below to send her flying in a mass of broken bones, she dove forward, leaving the bludgeons on their paths up. Two crunches told her that they found alternate marks on each others' jaw, and they went down in a heap.

She smiled as she looked over her first three victories, and walked towards the clubs. Before she could reach them all, though, their bodies dissolved into foul smoke. When it cleared, the clubs were gone too. 'Pardon me,' the King said from above. 'We can't have you trip over any debris.'

Darkwing snarled up to him. 'She needs those, you know.'

'Yes,' the King said, 'I do. Of course, if she had them, then they would not be debris, would they?'

Darkwing growled and turned again to the pit. His heart twisted in his chest (despite not having either anymore) as he watched sporadic one- and two-man groups coming at his daughter. She was still managing, for now, but a full day of this, against literally a thousand enemies?

Indeed, after the twentieth demon, she sagged back, panting. Her hands were already getting sore from the fighting; gloves were a huge benefit there. She'd settle for that, let alone a real weapon.

A hideous howl hurled her head over heels. When she got up, she saw a different opponent. Rather than looking like the generic devils and demons who had been hounding her, this one was dressed in rotting antique garb, complete with helm. In one hand, he held a short sword; the other clutched a shield. He yelled out a line of what sounded Scandanavian.

'Here we go,' the King said. 'Your first tough opponent. He was known as Bjorn the Bear Bludgeoner, although as you can see he did not really live up to his name.'

---

'OK,' Gosalyn said as she circled, 'this was covered last week. Armed opponents. What did the teacher say?'

The undead Viking yelled again, and swung his blade. Gosalyn yelped and hopped back. 'Right. Surrender. Not an option here.' She looked around, hoping there was something left over, but the rest of her enemies had come at her with claws. Nothing usable for her desperate fight.

As she searched, he brought his shield around, screamed another battle cry, and charged. She grunted as the shield rush knocked her sprawling, rolling until she reached the far wall of the arena. She groaned as she stood up, aching all over.

The warrior stamped his foot and held his gear up, yelling to the crowd. The assorted demons roared back, and even the King laughed. 'And she was doing so well, too. A shame, Darkwing,' he said.

Darkwing himself watched, and tried a desperate yell. 'Gosalyn! Now! While his back's turned!'

The shade looked at him, and Darkwing winced, but then looked at the puzzled expression. He'd been heard, but the ghost didn't understand? Then again, he hadn't understood the screaming warcries earlier. English probably didn't exist back when he was around! 'Get him, Gos!'

She groaned again as she got upright, and shook her head. It seemed like her father was yelling at her, trying to guide her. She looked up, and saw him waving. 'Wait,' she said to herself, and looked at her enemy. Indeed, he was posturing--in fact, he was taunting her father!

Darkwing caught that too, and tried to keep his attention. 'You couldn't even find England on a map of London, let alone sack it!' he yelled. The words didn't trip any triggers, but the gestures kept Bjorn's focus on the taunting duck.

That was all Gosalyn needed. She ran up, lowered her shoulder, and hit Bjorn in the back of the knee. He howled as his leg was knocked out from under him, and slammed into the ground, losing control of his sword as it flew up from his stunned grip.

Gosalyn skidded to a stop, and ran back. She hopped up, planted her feet in the Viking's gut, and used it as a springboard to grab the sword before it could hit ground. Turning, she made sure to come down point first.

She stared into his eyes as Bjorn realised what would happen. It only lasted a moment as the blade sank in. She was sure she didn't feel any resistance ... and then Bjorn's body turned to the same smoke that the other enemies had.

She panted and landed on her feet, reaching up to wipe her brow. And then noticed she still held the short sword. Grasping the hilt in her hands, she started looking around. 'Allright, creeps. How do you like me now?'

Darkwing smiled as the counter under Gosalyn's face moved to 21.

---

The next squad was a five-creature unit, armed as the Viking was. Wtih deft strokes and parries, she held off the assault for two or three more minutes, then started sneaking her sword in. After ten minutes, only one remained. After eleven, he had fallen.

Gosalyn panted in exhaustion. She was in good shape--even better, she had youth--but even this much constant fighting was taking its toll. At least the hordes were holding back for vital seconds while she rested.

She looked over her weapon, and sighed. She always had thought of Vikings as brandishing huge axes, and was surprised that her enemy had a sword. It was a mundane blade, and had seen much use from what she could tell--it had that beat up tarnished look she remembered from field trips, and not the gleam or shine from Viking movies she'd seen.

As she brought it up close to look over the notches and flaws, it smashed into her beak, flat first. As she struggled, she realised what had happenned: her next opponent had snuck up no her and was trying to throttle her with a wire garotte! Only his sloppy technique of whipping the wire around rather than over her head had saved her, as it had caught on the crude weapon she held.

Of course, this meant she couldn't use the sword on her enemy. Still, an echo in her mind reminded her that if she just calmed down and used her head, she would prevail.

She smiled and twisted so the sword wasn't pressed into her face. She then nodded her head forward, and swung it back, wincing at the hit to her skull. The crunch of a muzzle flattenning rewarded her, and she spun and thrust her weapon. Apparently her new enemy was a ninja, dressed in the distinctive style. With a gurgle, he faded into smoke.

Gosalyn then turned to look over the board. Forty minutes or so had elapsed, and she was up to 27, with over nine hundred enemies left. She made sure to keep her guard up as she tried to rest.

---

Darkwing cursed at himself; he didn't see the ninja moving into position either. He still smiled as Gosalyn dispatched him, though. 'Takes after her old man!' he boasted.

'And how would you know this, Drake Mallard? I thought you'd never met the Waddlemeyer family until you met her,' the King answered.

'I meant me, you abomination!'

'Forgive me. It is hard to tell where your genes influence her. I wonder why,' he chuckled..then winced.

He turned, and found a crude shortsword stuck in his back, and a glowering Gosalyn. 'I heard that!' she yelled up from the pit.

'Indeed,' he said with a grunt as he withdrew the sword. 'I meant for you to. By the way, look behind you.'

She did, and saw a small squad of spear-swinging skirmishers. Then realised that she'd thrown away her weapon in a fit of pique. 'Oh, crud.'

---

The dancing flames glinted off the points of the spears, and the shining armour they wore over their chests. Gosalyn tried to figure how to get past the lowered lances, and wondered why the plumes on their helmets looked so familiar. Almost like they were Romans.

As one of them started barking orders, she then realised that these were actual Romans. Backing away, she tried to stand up as tall as she could. 'A desperate ploy,' she thought to herself, 'but all's fair in love, war, and fighting for your soul against hundreds of bloodthirsty demons.'

'Friends! Romans! Countrymen!' she yelled, arms out.

The men stopped, staring at the sight. She continued, 'Lend me your ears! I mean, spears!'

Her heart sank as they started snickering. They weren't taking her seriously! In fact, one had given in and was leaning on his spear laughing so hard his helmet had fallen off. She growled and stormed over to the unlucky soldier and kicked his spear out from under him, sending him crashing down.

The other Romans laughed even harder. She couldn't understand what they were saying, but was sure it was condescending. Then she noticed that the spear was just lying on the downed man, who hadn't recovered his wits yet.

She grabbed for it and planted the point into the downed man's chest, vaulting herself up. At the apex, she winced as she tried to lift her new weapon up and out of her victim. She felt part of it give way, and landed on his stomach holding a broken wooden haft, then winced as he evaporated, leaving her on the ground.

'OK,' she thought. 'I've got a bat.' She then gulped as six spears were pushed at her neck. 'And a huge problem!'

The Romans laughed as they saw Gosalyn trembling. The leader shouted something in Latin, and as the spears drew back to impale her, she swung the short staff she held, knocking the spears into each other.

'Eat-ay ood-way!' she yelled as she dove in, her club waving to and fro. Various crunches and thuds heralded her hits, knees and shins smashed under her assault. Once downed, she brought her improvised weapon up, then down, six times. She stepped back, panting, arms aching, but smiling as the Romans faded away. 'Allright! Who's next?'

A berserk howl erupted from behind her. She smiled, shifted her grip, and dashed at the next enemy.

---

Gosalyn panted, her improvised club held loosely in her hands as another devil faded away. A glance at the chart showed she was at 56, and about an hour had passed. 24 times 56 ... she couldn't think straight, but it seemed good for a start. Her club was now covered with the icky black smears of her enemies; it was probably horribly evil demon blood, she thought to herself. A part of her imagined trying to taste it, to get their power ... no, she can't let it in that way. No matter how cool it would be.

She tightened her grip as another roar echoed around the arena. While most of her foes were demons, they kept sending occasional bands of what must've been ghosts or zombies, since they looked normal. That included the motley mob rushing her now, swinging pickaxes and jabbing pitchforks. She was hoping to get more time to recover, but felt a reserve of energy rush through her. Yelling back, she charged at the mob.

Darkwing winced as the sounds of wood on flesh echoed up to his cage, and even the King seemed surprised at the results. 'I never imagined her to be this vicious,' he mused to himself, stroking his chin.

'More spirit than you can deal with,' Darkwing growled.

'Oh, I think there won't be any problems,' the King said. 'In fact, this may work out for the best after all.'

'Why's that, pitchfork boy?'

'You'll see. She's quite determined to end things soon, is she not?'

Darkwing looked back to the pit. Gosalyn was clearly getting exhausted, but the last of this wave fell under several strokes of the staff. 68 now.

'Hmm,' the King mused. 'It would be considerate for me to give her a chance to rest, would it not?'

Darkwing rolled his eyes. 'I suppose that's the cue for a huge invincible monster to show up, right?'

The King looked wounded. 'You know, you could play along, Darkwing,' he grumbled, and waved his hand.

Gosalyn heard the discussion, and turned as she heard a rumbling behind her. A new door had opened, revealing a colossus. It stood over two metres tall and was clad in dull red metal armour, the plates clanking as it trod heavily towards her. It held what looked like a normal bastard sword, or at least one for a creature of its size, its blade tarnished with bloodstains and corrosion.

Gosalyn looked from the sword to the smashed, frayed remains of the spear haft she held. As the sword came down, she swung up to parry, and yelped as the impact smashed the wood to bits, leaving a splinter in her palm. She pulled it out as the fighter raised his weapon again, backing away.

She tensed as she heard a hollow laughing from inside the armour as the figure approached, growling as she clenched her fists. Ideas ran through her mind; none involved her inexperience against this sort of enemy. She instead kept imagining him down, and herself holding his sword in triumph.

This time the warrior lunged forward, sweeping his weapon in an arc in front of him. Gosalyn saw the speed, timed her jump, and landed on the barbarian's plated shoulder. As he turned his head to face his attacker, she flipped the visor on his helmet up. She couldn't make out an actual face inside, but trusting that something was there, she thrust the splinter she held forward.

A roar and a jet of black blood rewarded her, bowling her off the menace. He staggerred, bringing his hands up to his eyes. Grabbing her chance, she dove for the hilt of the monstrous sword, and fell flat on her face as it dragged her down with it. She grunted as she planted her feet, and with a loud yell swung the oversized sword.

She was rewarded with a shower of armour and blood as the behemoth all but shatterred from the swing. She smiled, gripping the hilt of her weapon, and turned. 'Next?'

---

Darkwing smiled to himself as he saw Gosalyn poised, and pumped his fists as she continued smashing her foes. 'At this rate, it won't even take her 24 hours, Your Moronesty!' he crowed.

'Indeed,' the King answered, fingers tapping. 'At her rate, it is likely that it will not last the full twenty-four hours.'

Darkwing chuckled, then frowned. That was an odd way to phrase it. 'So, we'd be leaving early in victory, then?' he probed, trying to sound naive. He didn't know the real situation, anyway; hopefully this would leave him a clue.

'You could call it that, if you want,' the King said. Darkwing could see just the barest hint of a smirk; the demon was well practiced.

He then looked to the pit arena, and saw Gosalyn's face as she swung her blade. A fiend managed a lucky block, ripping the oversized sword from her hands. She reached up, snapped the arm of the demon, bent back for her sword, and split him in two. Another glow of triumph rose in Darkwing's chest, until he remembered.

The sword didn't disappear when it hit the floor, as the other weapons had. It was there an entire 2/3 of a second.

He looked to the King again, and an awful thought crept into his mind. 'She has to withstand the assault, you said.'

'Yes, Darkwing.' The King smiled even more.

'But if she kills all the demons, then it won't be a full 24 hours.' Darkwing felt his heart drop in his chest. 'You're tricking her into losing.'

After another smile and nod, Darkwing then continued. 'That can't be all. You've also shown you can release souls you own back into the real world.' He winced as he heard a shrill battle-cry, and looked back to the pit, where Gosalyn had beheaded another foe. One who was, from what he could see, cowering. 'That's it. All of this is focussed on turning Gosalyn into some sort of ... monster herself.'

'You know what the road here is paved with, Darkwing. And I've been keen on expanding my influence. Your daughter is the right vessel. Filled with wrath, willing to go to extremes the like of which would terrify your own nightmares, and all under my control. By the time she is finished, her soul would be tarnished enough that it would already fall to me were it not for the game. And then, of course, there's your contribution to the coming world.'

'What, you want me to reseduce Morgana again? Fat chance. It failed miserably the first time,' Darkwing said.

The King laughed. 'Morgana was a feint. I needed to anger your daughter, and let her know how to come to the trap. No, Darkwing, your contribution is your soul. Remember how we promised that as long as I own your soul, she will live?'

Darkwing nodded, then gulped. He felt as if his heart was being crushed. 'You're damning her, and making her immortal.'

'Everything that has happenned has been building to this, Darkwing. This plan has long been organised, and once I had the opening ... well, who can resist an immortal champion of the worst excesses of evil, all in the name of a twisted memory of good?'

The King smiled. 'I will own her soul. And she will never know the peace of death, no matter how bloodstained the rest of her life will become. Welcome to Hell; next stop, Earth.'

* * *

Happy New Year, fans. This was a long chapter. Hopefully you don't hate me too much for this plot development. And the reason I had to redo things was I forgot a few minor details about the King's plan..


	10. Chapter 10

The Soul Cages  
Copyright 2010 Q Illespont  
All characters trademarked by their appropriate owners.  
Chapter 10

* * *

Darkwing winced as the counter under Gosalyn's score kept climbing. Two hundred, three, four, and on, while time seemed to all but crawl. He'd finally figured out the plan of the King of the Sea, but getting that information to Gosalyn would be a challenge in and of itself.

'Let's see,' he thought to himself. 'What's needed is to get a signal to her that she would see and understand, yet would be missed by everyone around me. That means yelling myself hoarse won't work. I could flash my cape in an intricate pattern, but I'd need a code that she actually knows. I knew I should've taught her Morse code when I was alive!'

Darkwing gripped the mesh of his cage tighter as he watched his daughter in the arena. Despite the numbers, the tide had definitely turned; her sword swung smoothly as she slaughtered Satan's simple servants. Even a few of the devils sent against her were cowering, although it didn't stop her from skewering three of them. And the glee on her face already had hints of horrible malice, as if the blood spraying all over was somehow good.

He then turned back to the King, and saw that nearby was another demon, apparently some sort of clerk. It held a clipboard and spoke to his captor, then took notes. 'Got the next set ready, sir,' it reported; the King nodded his assent.

'Hm,' he thought to himself, and plucked a feather off of his head, wincing. He used the tip to jab into his finger, drawing a little of what used to be blood. Hoping it was enough, he threw it. It flew true, and scored a line across the clipboard.

The clerk looked at his notes, confused. Now for the second part, Darkwing thought. Hoping to keep out of the King's hearing, he whispered out. 'Hey! You! What's wrong?'

The clerk walked over. 'Looks like one of my squad suddenly scratched.' It held up the list, showing that he'd managed to draw a line across someone's name.

'Wow, what poor luck you've got. Tell you what, I can cover for him.'

The clerk thought, then reached in and pulled out Darkwing's arm. Peeling back the feathers, he looked at what seemed like a barcode imprinted there. 'Got it.' With a flourish, he wrote Darkwing's name in. 'You're #782, Get ready.'

Darkwing smiled. Part one was complete, as long as the King didn't find out. 'After all,' he said to himself, 'he did include the damned, and I'm sure as Hell damned.' He winced at the pun, but waited.

---

Gosalyn didn't even feel fatigue anymore. The massive sword felt more like an extension of herself rather than a large chunk of heavy steel. For the first time in her life, she actually understood gracefulness as she felt herself almost conforming with her weapon as she struck down scores of her foes. Sparing a glance at the scoreboard, she saw she still had plenty of time, and was already over 650 kills through her ordeal.

Another monster came up behind her, clanking in its armour. A quick spin sent the pommel of her sword into its midsection, denting the plate covering it and doubling her foe over. A spin the other way sent the sword in a lethal arc that went across his chest; he fell in two and disappeared like all the rest.

Even now some of the demons had started showing caution, reluctance, even fear to her. She laughed as one threw its arms up as if to surrender. That demon lost both arms to a sweeping high slash, followed by the legs with a cut down low, and then finished with its head split in two from an overhead chop. That'll teach it to be evil, she thought to herself.

Two hours later, she saw she'd exceeded 750. A loud howl erupted behind her. She adjusted her grip on the sword, turned, and returned with her own warcry. The crowd roared its approval.

Darkwing winced as well, then felt himself dissolve. 'Here goes,' he said.

---

He coalesced in the midst of a pack of ruffians--motorcycle gang gone bad, he thought to himself. Leathers, chains, knives, bad attitudes. By a spot count, this would be an easy 40 points for Gosalyn. It'd be a reasonably challenging 39 points if he were to take them on. The room itself seemed enclosed, lit by an ambient red glow, with no indication of entry or exit.

A large beagle spun him around. 'Who do you think you are?' the thug sneered.

'Darkwing Duck,' he answered. 'Firepants up there put me in with you guys.'

'What, he thinks we can't take out some little girl?' The men laughed.

'Don't ask me, I'm just someone he orders around.'

'Oh, we'll show him what we're made of,' he yelled. 'Stay outta our way or we'll show him what you're made out of too!'

He held up his hands. 'All yours,' he said. The gang laughed, and a wall opened up; Darkwing matched the shape to the one behind Gosalyn, so this was the set of fighters she would face now. And he was one of them.

His quick trick bought him a way to get up close to Gosalyn and tell her in person what he found out, as well as to help her actually last the entire time. Unlike her, he was dead; he wouldn't get tired, since all his muscles were gone.

When the gang charged, he held back. Smiling, he saw the lightly armed, lightly armoured pack shreddedas they charged his daughter. It was still slightly disturbing to see her happily hack away, but parental pride still shone through.

He started running to her as the remaining corpses faded away. 'Gosalyn! It's me! Your dad!' he yelled, arms wide open.

She twitched, turned, and glared. 'Nice try, King of the Stupid!' she yelled; only his instincts saved him from the overhead swing that left a long notch in the stone floor.

'Hey, young lady, what do you think you're doing?' he said, backing out of reach as she pulled the sword out of the ground. 'Is that a way to treat your long-dead father?'

She smiled grimly. 'Yeah, right. My dad's locked up as the prize. You're just trying to talk me into lowering my guard. Just like all those other guys who kicked me after trying to give up. I'll destroy you like I did all the rest!'

Darkwing hopped on his toes and tried to jump as she spun for another blow. A flick of Gosalyn's wrist turned the slash into a swing of the flat; taking the swing low, he spun in midair before landing on his face. Pulling back, he saw the point of the sword driven into where his beak had been. 'And I'm gonna enjoy making you regret disguising yourself as my dad!'

---

Darkwing found himself dodging furiously, working a lateral element into his retreat to prevent coming against the wall of the arena. Gosalyn herself moved back as well, sword before her in a wary guard. 'Gos,' he said, 'you've got to listen to me. This is all a trick by the King of the Sea.' He tried to move to let Gosalyn see both himself and the King's box. 'He's trying to drive you insane with bloodlust!'

'So?' she answered. 'Sometimes blood's gotta be shed, and better evil blood than good.' She growled, and repositioned her sword.

A voice then echoed in Darkwing's mind. 'You may have fooled my staff into letting you get to her,' it said, 'but the stipulation is assault, not negotiation.' He frowned; the King had noticed his trick, and it was in the contract.

'Gos,' he said again, shifting his stance, 'if you kill all the demons, he wins! You've gotta withstand it, not cut it short!'

'Quiet!' she yelled, and swung again; Darkwing this time cartwheeled back, then partially up the wall, fingers digging into the dirt to hold on as he looked at his daughter. 'Look, it's simple. I'm the good guy, you're evil. I hack you to ribbons, and I leave here free.'

Darkwing opened his mouth, but was interrupted as the wall under him shook, then rose. This was another hatch! It slid open, revealing a trio of giants, each with sword and shield. This at least distracted her from wanting to gut him as she dove into the new foes. He still cringed as he heard the blows land. Sword on sword, sword on shield, and then sword on flesh.

He heard a sinister laugh from above, and more doors opened. A legion of demons poured out for his bloodthirsty daughter to face. He grimaced; while he did succeed in getting there, he wasn't able to talk her out of the massacre yet. And her soul hinged on his being able to do just that.

His grip was wearing out; he let go for a controlled slide down the cavern wall. His daughter was grinding her way through the demons on the far side from him, with one or two stragglers near him. He turned to one. 'What's this to you?'

'Huh?' This one looked like he could be a teenager from Saint Canard's street gangs.

'What'd the boss offer you for this fight?'

'Offer? I don't want to be here! You gotta do something to help me!' The boy grabbed Darkwing's coat desperately. 'I don't wanna die again!'

'Why? What happens?'

'I don't know, man, but I can't go through that again! I thought I got away when we were hit by the Wayne Street guys but I got in a wreck and ended up here! You gotta help me, man!'

Before they could talk any further, a hoarse scream erupted from above. Darkwing glanced that way and saw the lights darken in one area, and dove away. The unfortunate soul he was speaking with didn't pay attention, and ended cleaved in two by Gosalyn's roaring attack.

Darkwing looked around himself, then back to the scoreboard. 842 now, after the last grouping. The King must have sped the release process up for this; the clock still had eleven hours left. He had to find a plan, quickly.

'Oh,' he heard in his mind, 'I like mine better.' As Gosalyn turned to scowl at him, a plume of smoke arose behind her. 'Purple,' Darkwing thought. 'He can't be doing this.'

'I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am the holy water that leaks into the basement of Hell! I am Darkwing Duck!' yelled a shape walking from the cloud. Gosalyn turned to try to face both him and the new arrival.

Another Darkwing Duck. 'Gosalyn, I fooled His Lowness into letting me get in here. Now, who's the imposter, and what should we do with him?' he said.

Gosalyn only growled as her eyes went from the new arrival to Darkwing himself.

---

'Gosalyn! Don't you know the real me?' Darkwing yelled angrily. His irritation only grew as he heard his double echo his question. 'Yes, that means ME!' he yelled, storming over, echoing the other's retort.

A harsh yell to the side got their attention, and both reflexively dove back as a slash threatened to render the identity issues moot. 'I'm not falling for that, either!' Gosalyn yelled, whipping the blade back around for a guard pose. 'You thought I'd just gush over the second one of you?'

Darkwing crouched back. 'Well, honestly, that guy I never met in my life. Or afterlife,' he replied. Before he could respond further, he suddenly felt a red hot rage run through him. Without thinking, he screamed out a kiai and threw a kick at Gosalyn's side; she stumbled back from the blow. 'Hey! What's going on here?' he yelled.

'Remember when you sold me your soul?' he heard in his mind. 'It comes with a few benefits. And you did agree to be one of the souls attacking her.'

The double quickly ran to Gosalyn's side. 'See? He's here to confuse you and get you to lower your guard. Trust me, I'm your father.'

Darkwing growled. He wanted so much to rip into the imposter. 'Why isn't he attacking, then?' he thought back to the King.

'It's a team effort. Besides, he, like you, will fail. Remember the plan?'

Darkwing scowled. 'Gosalyn, he's trying to trick you into killing everything!' He then dove into a roll and leaped up to bring an axe kick down. He meant to hit his imposter, but the sinister control sent his heel for Gosalyn's head; the fake then pushed her aside, taking the shot. With a sickening crunch, his foot smashed through the demon's skull, leaving him in a bloody heap.

'Remember, Gos,' the shade said as it evaporated. Darkwing gulped as he heard a familiar scream, and hastily backpedalled, holding his hands up. 'It's really not what you're thinking!' he said as she raised her sword.

Ducking, he felt his leg lash out for a sweep. Gosalyn toppled down and planted her sword, using it to pull herself up--and sneak a kick under his jaw. His arms came up to block it, and he let the force shove him back a few paces. He then smiled as an idea came to mind, retreating further as Gosalyn got to her feet.

'You want proof I'm the real thing?' he yelled.

Gosalyn only answered with a growl. He looked up to the scoreboard; 843. Of course; only one demon had been destroyed since then. Still, the subtle hints in Gosalyn's posture showed how much she'd changed. Her beak turned up just enough to show how she loved the gore--and not just the way she normally enjoyed gore, either. Years of criminology all but lit up the twenty cues in her posture that said this was sadism coming out to the front.

That, and the fact she was screaming something about what she'd do to his neck after she cut his head off. Normally he'd stop to remind her about that kind of language, or at least find out where she learned it, but first things first--get out of Hell, then wash her mouth out with soap.

Fortunately, this his body didn't need prodding for. Apparently whatever control the King had merely encouraged the thought he had as he leaped, dropped, spun, and launched. He flew straight at his daughter. She tried to bring the blade around to guard again--she was good--but not good enough.

Wincing incide, his foot smashed into her side, sending her skidding across the arena. He took his hat off, wringing the brim as he looked at the results of the Web Kick he had launched. 'Gos?'

Before he could repeat himself, another wild howl erupted behind him, followed by gunfire. This next squad was armed heavily. Caught entirely unaware, his only warning of the fusillade was when the hellish bullets smashed through him, bringing him down in a bloody heap. The last thing he saw before evaporating was Gosalyn still down, only starting to stir, favouring the side he'd struck while the bullets smashed into the wall of the pit over her.

* * *

So, did it work? We'll find out once chapter 11's up.


	11. Chapter 11

The Soul Cages  
Copyright 2010 Q Illespont  
All characters trademarked by their appropriate owners.  
Chapter 11

* * *

Gosalyn snarled, and part of her smiled as the shade with the appearance of her father was riddled with bullets. Only a moment, though; it looked like a Waffen SS squad was after her. With a quick roll, she lunged forward, skewering the lead private. She glared into his shocked eyes as she wrested his submachine gun from his hands, and without looking sprayed its magazine into the rest of his mates, finally shoving him off the blade with her foot.

A few more slices, and she was again alone in the arena. Another glance showed she'd just finished number 852. She smiled to herself as she imagined what the arena would look like were the corpses to stay instead of disappear. A pile of slain foes, probably high enough that she could climb out and bring down the King of the Sea! She smiled as she shifted her grip on the hilt of her sword. Indeed, once she was done here, she'd take his offer and show him what she thought of it with swift strokes of her slaying sword.

A thought echoed in her mind. She remembered that two demons appeared, looking like her father. Maybe one was really him? She didn't directly kill either; one killed the other, and then was cut down by the Nazis she had recently downed. Both were claiming they were real; one was screaming that she should take it easy, the other that the first was a fraud.

Why should she listen to either? As another wave appeared, she didn't even hesitate; charging in, her weapon carved through the group before they could draw their own weapons. She laughed louder as, now even bloodier, she stepped back out of the alcove. 872 now.

She wasn't even feeling tired! A spin of her sword around and over her even brought cheers from the damned spectators, and she acknowledged it with a bloodthirsty roar of her own.

Her next enemy was a single knight. With ease she grabbed his upraised wrist, yanked him off-balance while sending his mace thudding uselessly into the ground, brought her sword up in one hand, and hacked his torso in two.

That brought back the reminder of how the discussion with the doubles ended. The first one who imitated Darkwing had attacked her, and landed the powerful Web Kick; if it weren't for her determination to win, she'd probably have been defeated by now after the blow.

Come to think of it, the fiend had performed a very good kick. She sagged, panting as she considered the paradox.

A growl brought her out of her thoughts. Another half-dozen mooks, although apparently these were more expert. Parries, dodges, even occasional kicks helped fend her off, and consideration of the debate was replaced with red fury. This was soon sated in red blood, and number 879 went down in pieces.

'I'll tear you apart!' she yelled as the door opened again, and dove into the crowd behind it. With glee, she saw them shrink back, whimpering. That didn't stop her from painting the cavern with their blood, glaring as the last fell off the end of her sword.

Panting again, she turned, staying in the alcove. Another door opened, and she smiled, wanting this massacre to be in the open. There were about ten more demons, and they hesitated as well.

As she waited, she thought about the kick. It was her father's special manoeuvre, and no-one else had really perfected it. Perhaps Goose Lee would have, except he had his own preferred attack and was proud of it. Maybe that's what was going on.

But why would he actually tell her to be careful? She was winning easily! She could almost see the end, standing over the King, sword at his throat, forcing him to give up ... give up ...

Give up her father, right? That's what this was about, a voice in her head reminded her.

Right, another answered. Across a river of blood, atop a mountain of skulls, she will win.

Win her family back, of course.

Right, the other voice said. And then on from there. She was mighty. She can remake the world. FOWL, the Fiendish Five, everyone. The power was in her, and she can seize it and bend it to her will. All would fear her.

Whoa, the first voice echoed. You sound like Dad did in the future.

As she thought of Dark Warrior Duck, her sword faltered in her grip. She stepped out of her alcove, and shook her head, then looked over the newest set of enemies.

They cringed back, and now she could hear faintly words. She couldn't make out what they were, but she could see that some were trying to push others in front of them. Others were pulling odd things from their pockets.

All were cowards, begging and pleading and scheming against each other to avoid her.

The voice in her mind all but shouted for her to bring them down. Bring justice! Show them no mercy! They deserve none! No-one does! Destroy!

Wait. Why would they send THESE guys? she thought to herself in response. They're no threat to me!

Look at them, the first voice in her head echoed. Cowering bureaucrats, plutocrats, and other things that end in -crats. These guys are just as evil as a marauding barbarian, just behind a desk. These guys wield the pens that are supposed to be mightier than the sword. Show them! Tear them limb from limb!

She blinked at the phrase. Did I just think that? she wondered.

She turned her eyes up to the rim, the audience. They were even holding up signs and posters of her, but not how she usually thought of herself. Even when she'd fantasise about being a bold barbarian hero, she never looked that savage, that bloodthirsty.

Whoa, she thought to herself. What am I doing here?

Killing everything that moves, the other voice answered.

Why?

To ... to save Dad.

She then looked back up, and gulped. A chill echoed through her arms as the final pieces of the puzzle fell in place in her mind. The first one was Dad, she thought to herself.

And then the King sent his guy to confuse you.

But why'd Dad attack me?

Duh! The King owns his soul, stupid!

Then why'd he tell me to stop fighting? He should know that I can do this! I can do this without his help!

Hold on there, the other voice echoed. He's been next to the villain all this time. He had to cheat to get to me, and give me that message. We have to stop killing everything.

But I can do this, she thought. I can be the hero!

Like Dark Warrior?

She felt as if weeks of fatigue had hit her as she remembered the sight. 'Oh my God,' she whispered aloud. The demons around the pit gasped, a few dropping their props. For several minutes, nothing happened.

'Show her the path!' the King roared from above, and another door slid open. This one was full of other demons. Gosalyn gulped, and readied her blade. 'How do I do this without killing them, then?'

As long as you have spirit, she heard in her mind, from two voices. One was her grandfather; the other was Darkwing. She gritted her teeth. 'I'm ready,' she said, and threw her sword down.

The horde dove at her.

---

Darkwing was back in his cage, The King pounded the roof, rattling his prison. 'Make her beg for death!' he roared. 'Make her suffer for a thousand lives!'

Darkwing himself held onto the mesh door. He hated to see this, but a part of him rejoiced as Gosalyn gave up her sword. His message had gotten through! Now all she had to do was ... take hours of violence. There were quite a few left. Still, at least her soul had held up. So far.

As the true ordeal started, he watched Gosalyn dodge, evade, parry, block quickly. The numbers started overwhelming her, though, and soon she disappeared in the melee.

The King hauled his cage up, leering at him. 'Her will cannot stand up. Either she will falter enough for one to kill her, or she will give in. There is much darkness in her, Darkwing, and she will be my immortal weapon, with your soul powering her. All you did was make sure she sufferred before the end. Remember that!'

Darkwing cringed, but the back of his mind registered the fine details again. This time, despite his fear, he remembered that the key was that Gosalyn can't die as long as his soul was the King's. He prayed to himself that she knew well enough.

---

Without thinking, Gosalyn felt her hands shoot out. One demon fell, clutching his smashed windpipe. Her other hand felt a crunch, and a second dropped with a shattered beak.

She gasped to herself, and turned back to the rest. It looked like the King had sent everything at her now, the remaining demons. Over a hundred had been left, and this was turning into a savage mauling. And she had to somehow stand up to it. She'd learned enough skill to defend, but all the while she'd been aching to strike during her lessons; now she had to almost fight her limbs to stop herself from getting closer to killing the last of the damned.

She then remembered the crowd of cowards. If they were still in the back, she could dispatch this bunch and leave them. That'd win it for her!

That train ended as a shrill shriek erupted behind her. She was barely able to get her hand up to stop a garotte from wrapping around her throat; a shift of her hips and a quick lever brought one of the bureaucrats down onto the arena floor. They'd found their courage, apparently; she couldn't rely on them staying back now.

She winced, and gritted her teeth, steeling herself.

---

Darkwing's eyes scanned the screaming horde in the pit. 'That's everyone. No-one left behind,' he whispered to himself.

'Indeed,' the King growled. 'She'll give in to her true nature soon enough.' At Darkwing's silence, he chuckled. 'Oh, have you ever wondered about what truly is in your daughter's soul?'

'No, I've pretty much figured that out. Rough around the edges, but good at heart.' Darkwing smiled. 'Of course, without my help she would've been one of yours. No wonder you don't like me that much. And you missed out on Morgana, too. Hmm, who else can I get a hold of?'

The King of the Sea snarled. Darkwing smiled as he saw his face start to twist in rage. 'Aww, is the poor King of the Sea too weak to even tempt an impressionable little girl? Face it, redboy, you're as beguiling as a bureaucrat, as tempting as talcum powder, and as soft and subtle as a sandpaper massage!'

'And what do you hope to gain from taunting, Darkwing?' the King growled.

'The fact that you're no king. You're not menacing at all! You'd get booed out of a Halloween children's special! You'd be better off wearing a sheet with eyes cut out. In fact, you'd probably be improved if you looked like a potato!'

'And what of the father who neglects his daughter? You try to be the perfect parent, yet there she is, abandoned to my hordes. And all thanks to you, Darkwing,' the King snarled. 'You dragged her soul to Hell, just as I wanted, and she WILL succumb!'

'Hardly,' Darkwing said, tugging his lapels. 'It runs in the family. In fact, I bet you that she comes out of there not only still good, but also with an understanding of the rights of the accused, AND the patience to not fly off the handle! This isn't a hellish test, this is a character building exercise!'

Darkwing smiled as the King fumed. The more he could keep him distracted, the less he could interfere with what was in the arena. The demons might even have problems assaulting Gosalyn if he keeps the King angry enough. 'It's the classic trap evil falls in. You try to seduce the good guy and all you do is teach them how to be the ultimate crimefighter.'

'Then perhaps I'll do something else,' the King yelled. He raised his arm up, then brought it down. With a roar, a huge pillar of water smashed down into the pit. Darkwing gasped as the torrent quickly filled the fighting area to the edges.

'I am the King of the Sea!' he roared. 'And as she is dying oh so slowly in a watery grave, her soul is now consigned to ME!' While Darkwing stared in shock, the King then smoothed his features and sat back in his throne. 'I hope you two enjoy each other's company here.'

* * *

Oh, you don't think it's over yet, do you?


	12. Chapter 12

The Soul Cages  
Copyright 2010 Q Illespont  
All characters trademarked by their appropriate owners.  
Chapter 12

* * *

Honker and Morgana had kept close to each other as they watched a screen. A demon had set up a television nearby, and was chuckling as it ate some popcorn while they watched Gosalyn's ordeal. Launchpad had stayed with them, until he started eating the demon's popcorn as he watched.

When Gosalyn confronted the two Darkwings, Morgana growled. 'That's just unfair,' she said to the demon. Its reply was a simple shrug.

'Actually,' Honker whispered, 'it looks like Darkwing was trying to say something. That's why there's two--one must be an evil duplicate.'

'At least he made him waste two of his demon slots,' Morgana replied. 'One on Dark and one on countering him.'

They then gasped as one of the Darkwings destroyed the other. 'There went Darkwing,' Launchpad wailed.

'I'm not sure about that,' Honker said. 'That looked like one of his martial arts moves.'

Launchpad leaned in, and gaped, popcorn falling out of his beak. 'That's the Web Kick!' he said, as the remaining Darkwing sent Gosalyn flying across the pit. He then gulped as that remaining image was cut down in a hail of bullets. 'Well, so much for that.'

Honker sighed. 'Why can't we do anything?'

'Because if we go in,' Morgana said, 'it will break the terms of her contract. Which would mean the King of the Sea would automatically win, and her soul would be ... well, his.'

'What would he do with it?' Launchpad asked.

'Actually, what DO demons do with souls?' Honker added, looking to the demon who was watching them.

'You don't wanna know, kid,' it replied.

Hours and bathroom breaks later, they saw Gosalyn throw down her sword. 'What's she doing?' Morgana asked. 'She can't give up!'

Honker could only stare; he'd seen her surrender before, but generally when the only real alternative would be a horrible pummelling, or worse, death. He'd never known her to take the horrible pummelling as he saw in front of him. 'I ... I don't know, Miss Morgana,' he replied.

'Wow,' Launchpad said, 'she sure can take a punch. Takes after her dad.'

Eventually, a roar came from the speakers, and the arena was buried under water. 'No!' Honker and Morgana yelled.

'That's not right!' Morgana continued. 'Who did that?'

'Who cares?' the demon answered as it packed up the television. 'Any of you guys wanna try your luck next? We've got a place reserved for you, MacAwber, and we're always looking for new talent, Muddlefoot.'

Morgana and Honker shrank back, before Honker came forward. 'What about their contract? What about the deal?'

'Ain't my concern,' the demon replied.

As Morgana and Honker struggled to figure a way to continue, Launchpad walked to the bridge. 'Wow, the big idiot knows the score before the two geniuses. Go fig,' the demon said.

Once there, Launchpad opened a drawer. Before he could do anything, Morgana called out to him. 'What are you doing?' she said.

'Getting ready!' he answered, and felt a breeze blow behind him. He turned back, and saw the drawer empty. Smiling, he closed it and walked back out on deck.

The King of the Sea let out a loud roar of triumph, sending waves across what was once the fighting pit. 'Look upon my works, Darkwing, and despair!' he bellowed, thumping the top of the cage with his fist. He sneered down to it, and sniffed. 'Wait,' he mutterred, and leaned closer. He thought he smelled something odd ...

Inside, the cage was empty, save for a spent smoke grenade. 'What?' the King asked, and glared at his aide. 'Where is the shade of Darkwing Duck?'

The aide hurriedly dug out a PDA, thumbing through the menus. 'He's ... not in our registers?' he replied, scratching his head in confusion. 'Where'd he go?'

A loud bang erupted, sending waves out from the new lake. As purple smoke billowed out over the water, a familiar voice echoed throughout the underworld.

'I AM THE TERROR THAT FLAPS IN THE NIGHT! I AM THE PRIEST WHO SEEKS COMMON GROUND WITH OTHER RELIGIONS! I AM THE SOCIAL WORKER WHO GENUINELY REFORMS CRIMINALS! I AM THE FAITH THAT THE INNOCENT CLING TO FOR SANITY IN A WORLD OF SIN!

'I ... am DARKWING DUCK!'

The demons started howling angrily as Darkwing appeared in the centre of the smoke cloud, seemingly standing on the water. 'Weren't expecting me, were you?' he sneered.

The King reached out with a fist. 'Your soul is still mine. GET OVER HERE!' he screamed, and pulled as if tugging a lasso.

'Oops,' Darkwing smiled. 'You missed. Why, whatever could have happenned?'

The King stared at his hand, then at Darkwing. 'I don't know what you're doing, or whose infernal machinations you've suborned, but while you stand there, you stand on your daughter's grave!'

Darkwing chuckled. 'Oh? Watery grave, right? Let's ask her.'

He leaped up, and a small raft bounced up into view. Clinging to the edge was Gosalyn, who hauled her sword up into the keel before climbing in herself. 'That was SO COOL!' she yelled as she turned to the now-landed Darkwing, balancing in the prow. 'Like, fifteen demons were holding me down, and then all this water fell on me, and I thought they were gonna just drown me, but then they all started screaming and melting! Best special effects ever!'

She then shook herself off, caught her breath, and saw the shape in the prow. 'DAD!' she yelled, and ran to hug him. Then oofed; he was sollid! 'I thought I was gonna lose!'

Darkwing smiled and hugged her tightly, bringing his cape around her partway as well. 'You weren't. In fact, thanks to you, Kingy-Wingy here just blew his shot!'

'I DEMAND AN EXPLANATION!' the King roared, shaking the cavern.

'Gos, cool him down, will you?' Darkwing asked.

'Of course!' she replied, and retrieved her sword. Swinging it like a golf club, the flat smacked into the water, sending a spray across to him. The King sneered as the water landed on him, then yelped, backing away as he scrubbed at his face. 'What ... what is the meaning of this?'

'I'll tell you. While your multitude of murderous minions were assaulting Gosalyn, I saw you were getting more and more angry. All it took was a little push, a little prod, and I knew you'd try to put me in my place by killing Gos right in front of my eyes.'

'And she should be dead!' he roared.

Darkwing waved his finger. 'No interrupting. Now, you'd let all your demons out to pound on Gosalyn, but that wasn't enough. You had to join in. So, if she was being attacked by demon number one thousand, what's that make your trick with the water? You're the King of the Sea, remember, so it's your responsibility. That makes you demon one thousand and ONE! Thus, with a broken contract, my soul is now free.'

'What did you do to my waters? And my minions? And me?' the King wailed.

'Oh, that was all thanks to you too. I knew that with Gos here, Launchpad wouldn't be far behind, and he'd pack my spare costume. With, of course, my gas gun. And my special load grenades, straight from Antioch, Tennessee.'

Gosalyn looked at him. 'What load?'

'Holy, of course. Powdered holiness. Watch.' He twirled his gun and fired another round at a rowdy regiment; the dust gushed over them, leaving them shrieking in agony as they withered. 'That's why your final foes fizzled out, Gos. We're standing on a lake of holy water, right in the middle of Hell itself!'

'Keen gear,' she said. 'Can I keep some?'

'We've got enough at home, and it makes Morgana nervous anyway,' he replied. 'But first things first. I think we're due a safe exit from here.'

With a kick from his foot, he sent the boat to the edge of the pit, and set Gosalyn down before hopping out himself. The King stormed forward, and reached to grab the two once they were on dry land. 'I will crush you!' he yelled, then shrieked and dropped Gosalyn. 'What?!'

Darkwing casually leaned an elbow on the King's wrist. 'I never did get her to dry herself off properly after a bath. Especially in holy water.' He then stuck his foot out and tickled a toe on the King's arm. 'Come on, let go.'

The King yelped and released him; Gosalyn dove to catch her father, who climbed out of her arms. 'Now, anything else?'

'Just try to find your way out of here, you miserable wretch!' the King snarled, retreating to his throne. The spectator spectres formed a circle, making sure to stay about five metres back from the two ducks. 'I might not be able to touch you, but you will never get out of this cave!'

The waters rippled again, before a loud 'WOO!' echoed from there. Up from the waters rose what looked like a normal man, aside from his semi-straight black hair, a dark complexion, and a red vinyl jacket with decorative studs and chains. The new arrival looked over his shoulder, then slid backwards to the shore, spin, and stuck a hand into the air while going en pointe on his feet. 'I've come for the kid and her dad,' he said in a soft voice.

'Oh no,' the King said. 'Archangel Michael!'

'Oh yeah!' he replied. 'It's time we move out, come on!' He reached for Darkwing and Gosalyn. Darkwing took his hand; Gosalyn just stared.

'Why do you--' she tried to ask.

'Why not?' the angel said in reply, hand still out. Gosalyn shrugged and took it.

'Not without a fight, angel,' the King said as he rolled his sleeves up.

Michael let go of Darkwing's hand and snapped his fingers; a fedora flew from the lake, landing on his head. 'Wanna be starting something?' he asked, hands on his hips.

The king glared at the archangel. His resolve wavered, then sagged. 'No,' he finally mutterred.

'Thought so,' Michael replied, and giggled. 'Let's go, guys.'

'Back home?' Gosalyn asked.

Michael shook his head. 'I'm sorry. Your souls are free, but your bodies are quite dead.'

'What? How?' Darkwing gasped. 'I thought ... '

Michael sighed and kneeled. 'Do you remember how it felt under the water, Gosalyn?' he asked.

'Yeah,' she said, 'it hurt a lot, and then they were holding me down. I couldn't breathe.'

'You were hit by several tonnes of water,' he said. 'The impact crushed you, fatally. When he broke the deal, it revoked your immortality. All that water smashed you.'

Darkwing and Gosalyn gaped. 'How?' Darkwing squeaked.

Michael led the two to the edge of the pit. The King gave a hollow chuckle as they peered in. At the bottom, held down by the remains of a skeletal limb, was a small body. Darkwing shuddered and covered Gosalyn's eyes with a hand. 'I told you that you stood on her grave, Darkwing,' the King gloated.

Michael answered, 'Nevertheless, they are with us now. Come.'

Gosalyn sighed. 'At least I got you out of here, Dad,' she said.

Darkwing gulped. Everything he'd done was wasted, wasn't it?

'Everything you did was wasted, wasn't it?' a voice echoed from behind him. Surprised, he turned and saw a familiar sight. A devil was approaching him. 'Yeah, I read ya mind. Ain't much but it's part'a the job package. Yo, Mike. That look's just insultin', ya know?'

'Yes,' Michael said, a playful grin on his sculpted face.

'Whatever. Anyways, Darkwing, I got a proposition for you.'

'No!' Gosalyn yelled. She ran to the raft and grabbed her sword. 'We're not gonna do this again!'

Darkwing held her back with a hand on her head, carefully staying away from the steel. 'This'd better be good, Old Scratch,' he said.

'Well, it's basically if you two win, yer back in the world. You two lose, Mike hauls you off.'

The angel frowned. 'This can't be a free deal for you.'

'I'm doin' it outta the kindness of my heart, Mikey baby.'

'We know that doesn't exist.'

The devil pushed past Michael and leaned on Darkwing's back. Gosalyn snarled as he smirked at her. 'Listen, Drake buddy,' he said, 'you get a chance to undo everything. And if ya fail, all this happens and ya go off wherever Twinkle-Toes there leads ya. Deals don't get better than that.'

Darkwing sighed. He looked to Gosalyn, who furiously waved her arms, suggesting he decline. he looked at Michael. 'I can't take you back if you take this,' he said. 'You'd be marked by the sin, and would have to re-earn your place.'

'That's the trick, isn't it?' Darkwing said.

'Mmmmaybe,' the devil answered. 'Still, you gonna take it?'

Gosalyn's 'No!' echoed in his ears, but he couldn't stop himself from nodding. 'You got it.'

* * *

One last part to go.


	13. Chapter 13

The Soul Cages  
Copyright 2010 Q Illespont  
All characters trademarked by their appropriate owners.  
Chapter 13

* * *

Darkwing suddenly saw the frozen cockpit of the ThunderQuack. Warning lights were stuck in mid-flash everywhere; Launchpad and Gosalyn were again statues, his daughter clinging to his arms.

'Yer back to where this all started, duck,' the devil said. 'Here's yer chance. You might wanna avoid blowin' it.' With a puff of familiar brimstone, he disappeared.

Darkwing knew he only had a split second before reality resumed. He had been thinking of the accident during his time in the cage; it was one of the King's favourite tortures, as all he had to do was sit and remind him of what happened, leaving Darkwing to do all the 'work' himself. And in the midst of all that, he had gone from 'What could I have done?' to 'How could I have done it?'.

Before he could take his next breath, reality resumed around him. The world-or, rather, the ThunderQuack-spun dizzily again. And he remembered that the devil wouldn't mind the third possibility, of Gosalyn brain-dead for the rest of her life, trapped in a useless body, unable to even die.

He counted to himself in his mind, straining to hold on. 'One chance,' he thought to himself. 'Chaotic spin, plus Gos's mass, means no margin for error in this.' He smiled. 'Good thing it's me, then.'

Tugging his arms, he carefully worked a different force into the spin of himself and his daughter. His mental countdown ticked down, and once he thought 'zero', he let go with his feet. He winced as Gosalyn screamed as they spun through the cabin, but at least she didn't struggle. 'Keep trusting me, Gos,' he thought to himself.

They had not hit the ground yet, and were in a pseudo-freefall. It wouldn't last long, but he didn't need long. As the opposite wall came up to greet them, he turned a foot to brace against it, and once he felt the forces right, he pushed off.

The new spin took the two back at the instrument console, and its emergency canopy release switch. As he swung by, he kicked out with his leg at the protected switch; the edge of his toe flipped the protective cover off, revealing the button.

His other foot missed completely.

Darkwing's eyes bulged in panic. How could he have missed? He'd computed it almost precicely! He stared at his daughter, almost pleading for a miracle.

Her green eyes met his, and she smiled. She twisted herself; it felt cruder, but with their proximity, she didn't need as much finesse as he had used. It showed; instead of using her foot, she struck the button with the back of her head. The blow to the brain stunned her enough to let go of his wrists, and as the canopy blew off she sailed out of the stricken craft.

Darkwing's worries were quickly squelched as the plane impacted.

'Launchpad,' Darkwing said, 'tell me how you ended up with only a scratch while I'm stuck in this thing!'

Launchpad chuckled. 'I guess I learned how to roll with the impact better. Don't worry, it's something you pick up.'

'Tell me about it,' Gosalyn mutterred from behind her father.

'Aw, Gos,' Launchpad said, 'it's OK. And your ankle should be better in no time.' He then scratched his head. 'Speakin' 'a that, mind if I push your dad?'

'No!' she yelled, then blinked. 'I mean ... um, it counts towards family time, helping your parents around the house. Right, Dad?'

Darkwing chuckled. 'This time, kiddo,' he said, and closed his eyes. He heard her sigh in relief behind him.

The three had spent a little time in a SHUSH hospital, after J Gander Hooter had intervened and told the Air Force about them. He had feared the worst, but his casts would come off in due time, and all Gosalyn had to show for it was a sprained ankle.

Much better than anything else.

He then heard a voice echo in his head. It sounded like the angel Michael, or at least the voice he was using. 'They won't ever know.'

'That's good,' he answered in his mind. 'How's Satan taking it?'

'Very calmly. But remember, you've gotta re-earn a trip back with us. Be careful out there.'

Darkwing smiled as he thought of the devils.

One walked up to the devil who had last spoken to Darkwing. 'Ready when you are, boss.'

The last devil nodded and walked to an extra-large cage. Inside, the King of the Sea was trapped. 'Well, big boy,' he said, 'you royally flubbed that play! If it weren't fer me, two'd already be sittin' in heaven now tellin' God how great He is while gettin' spots ready fer the other three! What'cha got to say about that?'

The King's mouth opened, but no sound came out. 'Oh, right,' the devil said, 'I hadda borrow a few tings from ya. See, our only shot at dem is ta send 'em back inta the world and let it try ta corrupt 'em more. And I gotta get that power from somewheres. So I figure, who caused da mess in da first place?'

The devil smiled and pressed a button. 'Meanwhiles, at least I don't hafta worry about you.' The cage door closed.

Honker climbed into the window. 'Hey, Gosalyn,' he said. 'Are you ready yet?' It had been two weeks after she had gotten home with an injury, and she'd recovered in the time.

'Just a moment!' she yelled from somewhere else inside. A moment later, she ran into the room. 'Where's my sneakers?' she asked; otherwise, she was dressed as normal.

'I don't know,' Honker said, and opened her closet. He started as he looked inside. 'Whose are these?'

'That'd better not be what I think it is you're staring at,' she said.

Honker turned around, holding up a pair of black Mary Janes. 'I've never seen you wearing these.' He turned around and looked at the back of the closet door. 'Or this,' he said, taking down a black dress hanging there, along with a black sunhat.

Gosalyn stared in confusion. 'What's that doing there? I never set that out,' she said.

'It looks cute,' Honker said, 'but we were gonna be playing soccer, weren't we?'

Gosalyn snatched the dress and hat from him. 'I hate this dress,' she growled. 'I've hadda wear it twice already, and I'd better not need it again!'

'When'd you wear it?' he asked.

She sighed, sitting on her bed. 'Funerals,' she answered.

'Oh,' Honker said. 'I'm sorry. But why was it set out?'

She stared at the dress in her hands. 'That can't be right,' she said to herself. 'Why would I set this out? I hate it.' She sighed and tossed it on her bed; she'd put it back in storage later. 'Just get my shoes out of there,' she said.

Darkwing shook his head as he listened in, and walked away from her door. His casts had come off too, and he padded down the stairs, stepping aside as the kids tore past on their way to the field with a quick 'Bye, Dad!' and 'Bye, Mr Mallard!' as they flew.

He sat in the chairs and spun his way to the Tower, and adjusted his hat as he stepped away. Walking to the hangar, he saw Launchpad adjusting something under it. 'Did you find it?' he asked.

Launchpad sat up as far as the plane would allow, yelping as he bonked his head on the underbody. 'Yeah, it's in the bag on the coatrack.'

Darkwing walked to it and saw a shopping bag. Reaching inside, he pulled out a leather scabbard. 'What'cha need that for, DW?' Launchpad asked.

'It's not for me. And hopefully she never gets it either,' he answered, and returned to the plane, reaching into the back.

He'd been told that he was the only one who remembered everything that had happenned on the first trip through events, and nothing would remain aside from that. For a few minutes, he believed that it would pass as if a dream. However, he'd noticed that Gosalyn had prepared her funeral dress for today. In the first pass through history, today was his funeral.

Somehow, fragments remained in her mind, despite her not recognising it.

That made the second sign more easily explained, and he hoped fervently that it could pass out of time, too. But if she had those memories, she may have memories of something else. And there was no point in throwing it away if she needed it later.

He took the sword out of the compartment in the back, looking at the blade. Morgana had examined it, to no avail. He could almost smell the demonic blood that had coated the surface, as well as the almost clinical scent of the holy water it was immersed in. The blade shone supernaturally.

Sheathing it in the new scabbard, he set it aside in his trophy room. 'I mean, you never know when we need to go back in time again,' he said. Lame excuse, but it would work at least.

Leaving the sword behind, he returned to the ThunderQuack for another patrol.

* * *

OK, finally it's done! It'll be a while before I work on my next story, but I already have some pieces in mind.


End file.
